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The Prairie Detective. 

By LEANDER P. RICHARDSON. No. 24. 







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“YE’RE A LIAR, AN’ YE KNOW IT! THIS IiYAR MURDER WAS 
DONE BY YOUR HAND!” 


The Secret Service series— No. 24. 

Issued Monthly. 

DEVOTED TO STORIES OF THE DETECTION OF CRIME 


Subscription Price, $3 Per Year. OCTOBER, 1889. 

Coyyrighted, 1889, by Street <£ Smith. 

Entered at the Post Office, New Toi'lc, as Second-Class Matter. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 



BY 

LEANDER P. RICHARDSON, 


AUTHOR OF 

“Frontier Sketches,” “Captain Kate,” “No Slouch,” “True 
Stories of Wild Bill,” “ The Road Agents,” etc. 



NEW YORK: 

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 

31 Rose Street. 


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THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE BUFFALO HUNTER. 

As late as 1859 the vast prairies of Western Kan- 
sas, Colorado, Nebraska, and Wyoming furnished 
employment for hundreds of hardy men who gained 
their livelihood by the use of rifle and trap. 

Millions of buffaloes grazed upon the nutritious 
grasses; herds of antelopes, graceful and fleet of 
foot, dotted the soft undulations ; great numbers of 
coyotes or prairie wolves, slinking from sight by 
day, and howling dismally by night, lived upon the 
carcasses of the sick and wounded animals which, 
falling exhausted from their places in the ranks, 
were left behind by their companions to die ; myriads 
of smaller animals, whose skins were marketable, 
helped to attract the hunters. 

But the main feature of Western life at that pe- 
riod was buffalo hunting. There was an eager de- 
mand for all the peltries that could be taken, and 
the sport of hunting the huge prairie monarchs, 
made the profession thoroughly enjoyable to those 
wild and venturesome spirits of the frontier. 


6 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


The greater part of them were men who smiled at 
danger, and scorned the peril to which they were 
frequently exposed, for peril there was, on every 
hand. 

The Indians, naturally enough, perhaps, were in- 
clined to resent this wholesale intrusion on what 
they considered their domains, and wherever there 
was an opportunity to slaughter their white enemies 
they took advantage of it with an eagerness which 
established their intentions, if it did not add to their 
reputation for humane acts and thoughts. 

But this was not the worst form of danger which 
existed. The country was full of renegade white 
men, who sometimes lived with the Indians, and 
aided them in open warfare against the whites, and 
sometimes acted clear of either faction, committing 
depredations on each, and existing as a kind of guer- 
illa force, to harass and rob everybody they could 
find who had anything worth stealing. Some of 
them ran in couples, some in numbers of three or 
four. There was one regularly organized band. It 
was the terror of the country. 

For months, sometimes, “The Bloodsuckers” 
would not be heard from, and people would begin to 
hope that they had been drawn away to some other 
section by promises of richer spoils. 

But just as this hope would almost seem to have 
become a certainty, the band of assassins and rob- 
bers would turn up in some entirely unexpected quar- 
ter, and perform terrible feats of blood. 

They seemed to have no settled field of labor, and, 
in fact, never committed two crimes consecutively in 
the same region. Their plan was as simple as it 
was fearful. 

One night they would make a sudden descent 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


7 


upon some camp of hunters, murder them all in cold 
blood, and then ride off like the wind, helping them- 
selves to such of the stores as they chose. 

Then they would take a long march across the 
country by circuitous routes which would not lead 
them into sections where they would be likely to be 
met and known. In a month or two, after traveling 
almost incessantly toward some given point, “The 
Bloodsuckers” would dash down with whoops and 
yells upon some defenseless settlement, slaying and 
uobbing. 

It may be readily imagined that such a condition 
of affairs kept the whole country in a fever. 

No part of the West seemed free from these awful 
atrocities, and no hunter was sure from day to day 
that his cabin would not be burned before another 
dawn, and his loved ones murdered in cold blood be- 
fore his eyes. 

The marauders, who thus inspired fear and hatred, 
were as mysterious as they were sanguinary. No 
one knew whence they came, whither they went, 
nor who they were. Many expeditions had started 
upon their trail, but all had ended alike in defeat 
and discomfiture. 

“The Bloodsuckers” never allowed grass to grow 
under their feet. Having sacked a settlement, they 
traveled away so rapidly that the swiftest pursuers 
were soon left behind. 

One party alone succeeded in overtaking them. In 
the battle which ensued every man was killed save 
one. He was left for dead upon the field, but revived 
afterward, and took a great oath of revenge. His 
name was Ryan, and he was commonly called 
“Posey,” though why I am at a loss to understand. 

We shall see more of Posey Ryan presently. 


8 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


The most mysterious personage in the outlaw band 
was its leader. 

Many and varied were the attempts to discover his 
identity, hut they failed, each one in succession. 
Numbers of people had seen him, but his name, 
origin, and former vocation remained enshrouded in 
darkness. 

Everybody in the West knew of him, and he was 
generally spoken of as Persimmon Bill. The prefix 
was earned, I believe, once when the redoubtable 
chief was seen to eat half a peck of the fruit indi- 
cated. His real patronymic, however, was known 
only to himself. But whatever it might have been, 
no man on the border was so well known, or so thor- 
oughly feared, at the time at which I write. He 
was virtually king of the whole region from the 
Missouri River to the Rocky mountains, and he kept 
up his sway with extreme success. 

Old F ort Hayes, situated in the far western part of 
what is now the State of Kansas, a few miles south 
of the Smoky River, was formerly one of the princi- 
pal points where the hunters gathered each autumn 
to remain until the following spring. The fort itself, 
built of native limestone, has long since been trans- 
formed into sheep-pens by a farmer, who now owns 
the land. 

The hunters were absent, generally, all the sum- 
mer, and only returned to the fort when the snow 
began to fly. Their families usually remained at all 
times under the protection of the government post, 
sometimes not seeing their male relatives for months 
together. In the heated season this life was dull and 
devoid of pleasure. But as the chill air of winter ap- 
proached, numbers of traders from the East began 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


9 


to arrive, and when the last hunter had come in from 
his long summer of labor, the place was full of life. 

Each winter was a round of merry-making, from 
one day to another, and the traders, dealing liber- 
ally with the hunters, kept business in that state 
only described by the occidental phrase “booming.” 

When the sun again grew warm, and the snow 
began to melt away, the peltry buyers started for 
their liomes, and the hunters began again to clean 
their weapons, put their traps in order, and prepare 
for another campaign. 

Thus the order of affairs went on with almost un- 
interrupted sway for three or four years. Fort Hays 
was large and strong enough to easily resist any at- 
tacks from the Indians or marauders, and so life 
there was not troubled by the fears which rendered 
existence at other frontier posts miserable. 

It was about the middle of April, 1859. The ice had 
floated out of the streams, the snow was melting in 
the hollows, and the warm days were approaching. 

Everything about the settlement was in a stir, 
which foretold the coming evacuation. 

Saddle-bags were filled with ammunition, revolv- 
ers, bright from recent scrubbing, lay in their hol- 
sters, and traps, with long shining teeth, hung upon 
the cabin walls, lending rude ornamentation. Old 
horses were exchanged for fresh ones; kegs of 
whisky and sides of bacon, bags of flour, and pack- 
ages of pepper — everything needful for a long jour- 
ney, out of the reach of stores, was purchased. 

The single street was full of life and energy. 

In one of the cabins at the outskirts of the town, 
an aged man sat upon a flour-barrel, cleaning an old 
fashioned Mississippi rifle. His hair, which was 
long and gray, hung upon his shoulders. He was of 


10 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


spare build, but well shaped, and his face was full 
of kindly purpose and gentle thought. 

A smile that was half mischievous, half pleased, 
was upon his lips, as he spoke, without lifting his 
eyes from his work : 

“And so, Esther, you did not like the stranger who 
paid you such marked attention?” 

The girl he addressed was the taller of the two 
who stood arm in arm before him. But for the 
difference in their height it would have been difficult 
to tell them one from the other. 

Therefore, having noted the point of dissimilarity 
between them, a description of one will serve in all 
essential details for both. Face, round and plump ; 
nose straight, and a trifle prominent; lips cherry- 
hued, and curving up slightly at the ends; teeth 
even, large, and white ; eyes black, full, and twink- 
ling merrily beneath long and drooping lashes ; brows 
heavy and gracefully arched; forehead broad and 
rather round, shaded by a crest of hair which was 
so black that when the sun fell upon it one was sure 
to note a curious blue sheen which at times seemed 
to form a kind of halo about the head. The bright 
color of health lent another beauty to the face, while 
the neck, smooth and round, was just a trifle haughty 
in its erect firmness. 

Thus far my descriptive pen has moved with bold 
and sweeping strokes upon its mission; but as it 
passes down over the plump shoulders, stopping for 
an instant to note the curves of gently swelling bust 
or supple waist, all unconfined by artificial process, 
as it wanders over full and graceful hips and passes 
onward over limbs that taper in the fullness of sym- 
metrical outline, it hesitates, moves an instant in 
helpless indecision, and stops, baffled. 


THE PEAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


11 


The quill has refused its work. Well and good. 
There are beauties which no pen can portray, no 
tongue describe. And with this vague hint at the 
surpassing loveliness of “Doc” Harper’s daughters, 
I must retire from the unequal contest, and leave the 
poet’s domain for the broad fields of the historian. 

As her father ceased speaking, Esther’s brows 
contracted, and out of her eyes darted a flash which 
told the passion of her nature — a fire that burned 
deep and strong, either to cheer with warmth or con- 
sume with its fierce flames. 

“Like him?” she exclaimed, her handsome lip 
curling with scorn ; “like him? I would as soon have 
liked a rattlesnake.” 

“But why this great aversion? Surely he was 
good looking enough.” 

“Yes, he was a handsome fellow, ordinarily; but 
did you never see him without his hat?” 

“Not that I remember. What was the peculiarity 
exhibited then?” 

“A livid scar upon his forehead; a sinister glance 
in his eyes. When the light, unobstructed, falls 
upon his face, it loses its only charms. You have 
seen him thus, have you not, Marian?” continued 
Esther, turning to her sister. 

“Yes, often.” 

“And one night when he was here I perceived 
some object, as I thought, protruding from the upper 
part of his boot-leg. You remember his elegant, 
cavalry boots?” 

“Distinctly, but what was this object?” 

“That is what I asked him. He laughed in that 
uneasy way of his, passed his hand down, caught 
hold of the article firmly, and drew it forth. It was 
a bowie-knife, and the largest one I ever saw. The 


12 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


great blade was stained where clotted blood had 
been.” 

Esther shuddered at the thought. 

“A bad man,” said her father, laughing. “Carries 
his knife in his boot! Anything else?” 

“Yes, that was not all. When he saw that I had 
detected the murderous weapon, he seemed to be 
taken with a strange whim. In fact, he was ever a 
moody creature. At one time he would be gay, light- 
hearted, and happy ; then for a week at a time he 
would exhibit a spirit of unflagging ugliness. At 
those times he was silent, ill-tempered, and de- 
pressed. Well, this time I am telling you about, his 
mood seemed to be a reckless one. He said : 

“ ‘Having discovered one of my weapons, you may 
as well see the rest.’ 

“With that he pulled from the back of his neck 
another knife, the mate of the first. It also was 
spotted and stained. Then from his belt, where they 
had hung concealed under his loose coat, he drew 
two heavy revolvers. From his left boot-leg there 
came a third. All these weapons he placed on the 
floor in a row, and then regarded them with an odd 
expression I could not understand. In fact, what in 
the world a man could want with all that armament 
is beyond my comprehension.” 

Esther’s father had stopped rubbing his rifle, and 
sat looking at his daughter with a strange and ques- 
tioning glance. 

The old man’s suspicions were awakened. 

“Well,” he said, “what next?” 

“I asked him what could be the necessity of going 
about like a walking gun-shop. 

“Suddenly he riveted his eyes upon my face with 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


13 


that peculiar, searching look which he casts on any 
body he suspects. 

“He seemed to be attempting to read my very soul. 
Then the stern lines relaxed, and the old reckless 
smile came back — the smile that always makes a 
cold chill creep over me when I see it. 

“ ‘Those/ he said, ‘are the best friends I have on 
earth . 9 

“If the sentence had come from the lips of any 
other person I should have laughed. But his expres- 
sion, as he spoke, was so profoundly earnest, that 
an unknown dread began to take possession of me.” 

“ ‘But surely you never used them?’ I asked. 

“He thought a moment in silence. A red flush stole 
over his cheeks, and his yellow eyes changed to the 
deepest black. There was every indication of great 
mental excitement about his appearance, when he 
turned suddenly upon me, and with vehement ges- 
tures, spoke something like this : 

“ ‘Esther, do you know what it is to be hunted 
from one year’s end to another? Can you realize 
the awful misery of one whose life is sought from 
day to day by a thousand of his fellow-men? Is it 
possible for you to understand the eternal, unending 
agony of a man who, sleeping or waking, sees in 
every shadow a hidden enemy, and in every bush 
an assassin? Do you know what it is to start from 
troubled slumber, with great beads of cold perspira- 
tion standing at every pore, and every sense strained 
to its highest pitch, in the wild, mysterious thought 
that you are watched, hunted, discovered? I do — 
great Heaven! Ido!’ 

“All in a moment I saw everything that had made 
him moody, silent, and sometimes ugly. I felt sorry 
for him, and told him so ; whereupon he burst into 


14 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


his old reckless laugh, and declared that he was 
literally afraid of nothing. He said he had been in 
many close places, and that many attempts had been 
made upon his life, but that he had been amply re- 
venged upon his pursuers. Upon the stock of one 
of his revolvers were thirty-four nicks, cut in the 
wood. Each of those, he declared, stood for a life he 
had taken. I had never liked the man very well, in 
spite of his many attentions, but when he told me 
this, my blood froze with horror. If I had barely 
tolerated him before, I loathed him then. But in 
spite of that feeling there was a certain fascination 
about him which seemed to magnetize me. It was 
the same sensation you feel when looking at some 
hideous reptile. Resist the inclination as I might, I 
could not forbear to exclaim : 

“‘Who are you, who thus acknowledge nearly 
two-score of murders?’ 

“He made a motion as if to answer at once. He 
said: 

“ ‘My name is Can you keep a secret, Esther?’ 

“ ‘I can, but I will not promise,’ was my response. 

“Again he was silent for a time, apparently trying 
to settle in his mind whether to make me his con- 
fidante or not. Finally he turned, and said : 

“ ‘I cannot, then, tell you who I am, although I 
am convinced that you would not betray me. If I 
wish to live I must be unknown, and therefore you 
will not blame me for concealing my identity.’ 

“From the way in which he spoke, from his un- 
easy manner and extraordinary measures of self- 
protection, I began to more than suspect him. Soon 
he fell to talking of other subjects, and at length, 
as if actuated by one of those sudden impulses which 
seem to guide his whole life, he took both my hands 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


15 


in his, glanced quickly into my eyes, and exclaimed : 

“ ‘I love you, Esther Harper. Will you be my 
wife?’ ” 

Old “Doc” Harper and his daughter, Marian, were 
intensely interested in the narrative by this time. 
On the father’s face the last traces of the bantering 
smile had faded out, and now his eyes snapped with 
indignation. 

“The scoundrel!” he exclaimed, involuntarily, 
clenching his fist. “How dare he? Why, child, what 
did you say?” 

“For a moment I was speechless with amazement. 
The surprise was as complete as it was disagreeable, 
and I never realized until that instant how thor- 
oughly I detested that man. I had presence of mind 
enough to snatch away my hands, and then almost 
unconsciously, I began to talk. The words came 
unbidden, and I was entirely without knowledge of 
what I was saying. I abused him, called him a mur- 
derer, assassin, robber, and everything that was vile. 
Through all this he sat looking me in the eye, and 
smiling — yes, actually smiling. My fiery words 
pleased his fancy. At last, as a farewell shot, and 
not knowing why I did it— for I was moved by some 
unknown influence — I charged him with being no 
other than the chief of the Bloodsuckers, Persimmon 
Bill!” 

“Well! well!” exclaimed Harper, eagerly, as his 
daughter paused for breath, “what ensued?” 

“I cannot aptly describe it. I will not pollute my 
tongue with the full details. Suffice it to say that 
he sprang to his feet, turned pale as death at the 
mention of that name, and cursed, and raved, and 
blasphemed, because I had found him out. He 
begged me not to expose him, and threatened my 


16 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


life in the same breath. I would not promise, and 
I warned him that if he made an attempt to harm 
me, many people were within ear-shot, who would 
be amply revenged. That brought him to terms, and 
he requested me again and again not to make his 
real name and character known until he should have 
left town. I promised, partly because I felt sure he 
would escape even if I gave the alarm, and partly 
because— scoundrel, robber, murderer though he is 
— I admired him for his courage and audacity. Gain- 
ing this point, he still pressed his suit upon me. 
That, however, was too much, and I checked him 
instantly. Then he flew again into one of his reck- 
less passions, and became violent. As he went out 
through the door, in obedience to my sternest com- 
mand, he swore ” 

“Well, what did he swear?” asked her father, now 
thoroughly aroused and angry. 

“He swore that if I did not wed him peaceably he 
would charge down upon the post, carry me off, and 
compel me to be his wife. But, then, dear father, I 
am sure it was only braggadocia. Bold and daring 
as he is, he will hardly venture upon such a course 
as that,” and Esther laughed uneasily. 

“Gal, ye are mistaken. Ye don't know Persim- 
mon Bill,” said a voice from the door- way. 

All three turned eagerly toward the spot whence 
the sounds proceeded. Two men stood there, leaning 
upon their rifles, and gazing quietly upon the excited 
family scene. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


17 


CHAPTER II. 

SYCAMORE DAN. 

In order to give a clear understanding of the con- 
dition of affairs, and explain the presence of the 
two strangers, it will be necessary to go back a little 
in my story, and ask my readers to accompany me 
as far as the national capital at Washington. 

The morning train from New York had just ar- 
rived, upon a windy day in midwinter. Among the 
hundred or more passengers was one with whom we 
shall deal extensively before this narrative reaches 
its final chapter. 

There was nothing in particular about him to ar- 
rest attention, but if you had watched him closely 
you could scarcely have failed to see that he was not 
in any respect an ordinary man. His soft felt hat, 
with its broad brim, was pulled well over his fore- 
head, so as to conceal the restless workings of his 
watchful gray eyes, which were the most noticeable 
features about him. They never seemed altogether 
quiet, but roamed from point to point, taking in all 
that was going on about him. There was a singular 
fact connected with this strange faculty, and that 
was the facility which the gray eyes possessed to 
take in every point about anything they fell upon in 
a single fraction of an instant. One sweeping look 
up the street, and our friend knew every face, every 
form, every sign, and every building in his range of 
vision. It was the comprehensive genius of sight, 
trained and drilled into perfection. 


18 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


But we must not stop with his eyes. The face was 
rather pale, and the mustache which curled upon his 
lip was yellow as amber. His nose was longer than 
the average, and not quite straight. The shape of 
his face rather oval than round, although neither of 
these terms is an exact description. It was rather 
longer, even, than the commonly accepted oval. 

His figure was not heavy. The shoulders were set 
broader than the medium, but they were square, and 
thrown well back. However, if his body was not 
broad, it was thick. From the breastbone through 
to his spine, the distance was more than usually 
great. He was tall, too. So tall that he seemed 
slim — which he was not — and reminded one of a 
graceful reed swaying in the breeze. His move- 
ments were quick, bold, graceful, indicating agility 
and an active system. 

Take him all in all, he was a man to hold your at- 
tention when you had once fixed it upon him. 

On the morning alluded to he walked down Penn- 
sylvania avenue, carrying a small traveling-bag in 
his hand. At the lower end of the avenue he turned 
suddenly in through an open door-way, and ascended 
the stairs. Arrived at the second floor, his eyes fell 
upon a door which had a ground-glass panel let into 
it. Painted upon this semi-transparent background 
were the words: 


0 O 

1 SECRET SERVICE. | 

o O 

Turning the knob, he pushed the door open a,nd 
walked briskly into the room. A clerk, sitting be- 
hind a heavy French walnut desk of rich design, 
was the only person in the apartment. He looked up 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


19 


as the stranger entered, and waited for him to intro- 
duce himself. 

“Is Ryerson in?” asked the new arrival, in clear, 
incisive tones. 

The clerk, startled out of his lethargy by the assur- 
ance of a person who had the temerity to speak of 
his chief by his surname and in that familiar tone, 
forgot to yawn before he replied : 

“Yes, sir. Shall I give him your name?” 

“That’s what you’re here for, I reckon,” re- 
sponded the stranger, without changing a muscle of 
his face. “Here’s the card.” 

The clerk did not stop to reflect that life was a 
bore, as government clerks are wont to do, but took 
the bit of pasteboard between his fingers, and walked 
away through an open door which led to an inner 
apartment. 

“I wonder who he can be?” thought he. “Perhaps 
he’s a duke, or a foreign minister of some kind. 
‘Ryerson,’ to be sure! Well, he’s a cool one, any- 
how. Let’s see — what’s his name?” and the govern- 
ment employee cast his eyes over the card which he 
held in his hand. There, in bold letters, was the 
name: 

Dan Burdette, New York. 

The clerk made no verbal comment, but gave vent 
to a long, low whistle of surprise. 

“Show him in at once!” exclaimed the chief; and 
the subordinate lost no time in obeying the com- 
mand. 

“So that’s Dan Burdette, eh?” he muttered, as the 
stranger passed out of sight. “Well, I never saw 
him before, although I’ve heard enough about him. 
So that’s the greatest thief-taker in America — the 


20 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


boss detective. Blessed if he doesn’t look it, too! 
Thunder ! what eyes he’s got ! But I wonder what 
he is doing in Washington?” 

The clerk was not destined to find out. But you 
and I, being privileged characters upon this occa- 
sion, may take a peep inside the little room, and 
without being observed, may listen to the conversa- 
tion. 

The apartment contained a sofa, two or three easy- 
chairs, an elegant desk, a table, and a polished side- 
board. 

The walls were hung with pictures, and. the car- 
pet was thick and soft to the touch. A genial fire 
glowed upon the hearth. 

Behind the desk sat an elderly man in spectacles. 

As Burdett entered, this person rose and, came for- 
ward to meet him. 

“Halloa, Dan!” he exclaimed, heartily, grasping 
his visitor’s hand with a cordial grip. “Glad to see 
you.” 

“Received your telegram last night,” responded 
Burdette, in his customary unruffled way. “Packed 
my valise at once, caught the midnight train, and 
here I am.” 

“Prompt as ever, I see. Well, sit down and make 
yourself at home. Take off that coat.” 

The garment was soon hanging across the back of 
a chair, and its owner, planted in another luxurious 
piece of upholstery, had his feet upon the table.” 

“Now, Ryerson,” he said, when he had settled 
himself calmly, and was contemplating a speck of 
dust upon one of his boots, “what’s in the wind? I 
reckon you are on the track of a good thing, else 
you wouldn’t have sent in such a confounded hurry 
for me. Let’s hear it, whatever it may be.” 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


21 


“Good thing! I should say it was. But before we 
talk business, let’s refresh the inner man.” 

The chief went over to the sideboard, and took 
down a bottle bearing the legend “Old Stag.” 

Together with this he produced two glasses, which 
he placed on the table between himself and his 
guest. 

A box of cigars soon followed. 

“Business before pleasure,” said Burdette, with 
a smile, tossing off a draught of the decoction. “So 
here goes, old man.” 

After a moment of meditation, as the smoke curled 
up from their cigars, they were ready for business. 

“Well, Dan, I am going to set you on a scent that 
it will be a pleasure to you to follow. I am going to 
give you a ‘plant’ you have wanted for some time — 
and one which will furnish you an opportunity to 
wipe out an old score.” 

“All right,” responded the detective, with an un- 
moved face; “what is it?” 

“I have found traces of Bill Creighton!” 

“What!” k 

The polished boots came down from the table like 
lightning, and Dan Burdette, quicker than a flash, 
was on his feet, all aglow with excitement. The 
color came into his cheeks, his wonderful eyes 
flashed fire, and his slender fingers closed mechan- 
ically, like the teeth of a trap. 

“I thought that would stir you up a bit,” observed 
the chief, with a self-satisfied smile. 

“Stir me up? Of course it does. Why, I would 
rather catch Bill Creighton than do almost anything 
that is pleasant. He is sharp enough, though. Why, 
it is fully four years since we have heard from him.” 


22 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


“Yes, and I have traced nearly all his movements 
during that time.” 

“Well, let’s hear about it.” 

“All right. You remember the last time you took . 
him for counterfeiting out in Illinois?” 

“Remember it? I should think I did. And I am 
not likely to stop remembering it just yet. Eight 



stabs, four pistol balls, and a broken shoulder. 
What! A man doesn’t forget that kind of thing 
very easily. I captured him, he was convicted, sent 
to Joliet, and finally escaped. Rewards were offered 
for his recapture by four States, two cities, and one 
private individual, making a pleasant little sum to 
take in.” 


THE PHAHUE DETECTIVE. 


23 


“Yes. The total foots up to $62,000 Well, as I 
was about to say, Creighton was joined by several of 
his counterfeiting gang, and went West. Since then 
he has killed a great many men, and is still making 
things very lively. He is known as Persimmon 
Bill, and he commands the best organized and most 
desperate party of outlaws on this continent/ ’ 

“The duse! Is that Bill Creighton?” 

And Dan Burdette whistled in surprise. 

“It is he, and no mistake. Do you still hanker 
for the honor of taking him?” 

“Did you ever know me to weaken?” 

“No, Dan. I can’t say that I did.” 

“Well, then, why ask such a question? I shall 
start West to-morrow. Where was he last heard 
from?” 

“On the western border of Kansas. But he is a 
migratory being, and you can’t count on him as 
sticking in one locality.” 

“That’s all right. 

“ When I go after him, he is bound to come, sooner 
or later. Besides, I want to get even for that terrible 
dose he gave me last time we met.” 

“What assistance do you want?” 

“None.” 

“But you don’t think of going alone, surely.” 

“Don’t I? Now I do — just that.” 

“Well, I suppose it is useless to dissuade you. But 
I am afraid.” 

“Oh, don’t you worry about me. I have done 
more difficult things than this, and I shall not 
weaken now.” 

“All right, Dan. But I will say that I am em- 
powered to add a sufficient sum to the rewards thus 
far offered to bring them up to a total of $70,000. 


24 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


This is for the production of Bill Creighton, dead or 
alive. If you take him living, I will add $5,000 to 
that amount. He is the worst criminal in America, 
to-day, and his capture will be well worth the sum 
mentioned.” 

“Then I am to understand that my commission is 
a roaming one, and that I am to go where I please 
and do as I like, so long as I catch my man.” 

“Exactly so. And if you need money, draw on 
me.” 

“All right, I will do so. Good-by, Ryerson. You 
will hear from me before long, and as sure as you 
are a living man I will capture Persimmon Bill 
within the year if it costs my life.” 

With a graceful bow arid a laughing farewell Dan 
Burdette strode out upon the street. 

In half an hour he was on the cars, bound for New 
York, and at seven o’clock the following afternoon 
he was flying as fast as steam could carry him 
toward the city of Chicago. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


25 


CHAPTER III. 

STRIKING THE SCENT. 

The detective stopped but an hour in Chicago, and 
that only to talk with an old friend who had for- 
merly been a frontiersman. When the two sepa- 
rated, Dan had a second valise to carry. In twenty- 
four hours he landed at Kansas City, Missouri, on 
the banks of the “Big Muddy.” There he climbed 
the hill to the hotel, where he registered as “Syca- 
more Dan” from Ohio. He went immediately to his 
room, opened his new valise, and spread the contents 
upon his bed. After that he divested himself of his 
outer clothing, and prepared to rehabilitate himself. 

With that end in view he selected from the articles 
he had already placed upon the couch a rough 
woolen shirt, buckskin pantaloons, leggins, mocas- 
sins, and coat, and a broad-brimmed felt hat, bound 
about the crown with a heavy strip of wild-cat fur. 
A claw taken from the same animal dangled over 
the rim behind. 

He then fished up from the bottom of the bag an 
old leather belt, attached to which were two heavy 
holsters containing each a Colt’s revolver of the 
largest size. Between them, also fastened to the 
strap, was a heavy bowie-knife and a box for car- 
tridges. 

Ho time was lost in putting on this belt, after 
which Dan Burdette, in his new disguise, viewed 
himself complacently in the cracked mirror which 
hung against the wall. 


26 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


The metamorphosis was complete. But to be sure 
of avoiding recognition, he produced a razor and re- 
moved his handsome mustache. His costume and 
accouterments all bore evidences of former use. It 
may be stated that he had selected them on that ac- 
count. A new outfit, he reflected, would have 
aroused suspicion, which was the very thing he 
wished to avoid. His Chicago friend, in selling him 
the clothing he wished to buy, had conferred upon 
Dan the greatest possible favor. 

When the detective had assured himself that his 
disguise was beyond penetration, he packed up his 
civilized clothing, locked the valise, and strolled 
down stairs into the office, where a number of men 
were sitting or standing about idling away the time. 

His tall form and picturesque costume attracted 
general attention, and many were the inquiries ad- 
dressed to the clerk as to his identity. That func- 
tionary could only point to the somewhat vague ap- 
pellation scrawled upon the register, and acknowl- 
edged his own ignorance. 

Dan sauntered carelessly down the main street 
until he saw a gunsmith’s sign. He entered the 
store, and, after careful examination, selected an old 
Kentucky rifle capable of throwing an ounce ball. 

Ammunition, bullet-molds, and revolver cartridges 
were purchased next, and the detective-scout re- 
turned to his hotel. 

The next two or three days he spent in blinding 
those who questioned him about his former life, and 
learning from them all that was possible about the 
country which he was about to visit. 

For these purposes he gave out that he had spent 
his years among the forests which at that time lined 
the banks of the Wabash River, and that he was by 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


27 


nature and education a hunter. He was going, he 
said, to seek a fresh field for the exercise of his pro- 
fession in the great West. This gave him an excel- 
lent excuse for asking all sorts of questions as to the 
country, people, and routes. 

To still further mislead any who might look upon 
him with suspicious eyes, he assumed the broad dia- 
lect of the frontier, and I am bound to say that in a 
very short time he had so completely mastered it 
that the sharpest person would have scarcely sus- 
pected he was feigning. 

His skillful inquiries elicited a great deal of useful 
information. He discovered that there were only 
two ways of reaching the point he had determined 
to visit first — Fort Hays. One way was to cross the 
plains in a wagon, and the other was to go by boat. 

It was still too early in the season to adopt the for- 
mer method. In many places the snow remained 
yet, effectually blocking possible progress. The 
water route was his only alternative. The rivers 
were comparatively free from ice, and a journey of 
the length he proposed to make could be accpm- 
plished easily. 

The route lay up the Missouri for three or four 
miles, then turned into the Kansas, or Kaw River, 
following its course westward until the mouth of 
the Smoky should be reached. By pushing on up 
this stream he could gain a point only a few miles 
distant from his objective spot, whence a walk over- 
land could be made without difficulty. 

He was confident of the feasibility of his scheme, 
and broached the subject to several persons with 
whom he had become acquainted. 

Dan next began to search for some person who 
would guide him on his journey. Here the first ob- 


28 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


stacle presented itself. Money was plenty, and men 
did not care to work while it could be avoided. Be- 
sides, the trip was a long one, and few would have 
wished to attempt it at any time. 

He was lying in his apartment one afternoon, try- 
ing to make up his mind to the prospect of having to 
make the trip alone, and trust to luck for getting the 
right routes, when a tap came upon his door. 

“Come in,” said Dan, and a bell boy entered the 
room. 

“Two men down stairs wish to see you, sir,” said 
the youth, with the accent of awe which a young 
boy ever feels for a man of wide reputation. 

“Trot ’em up,” responded the detective, languidly, 
wondering who they could be. 

In a few minutes the lad returned with the two 
visitors. Dan had never seen either of them before. 
He was sure of that as he covered them with his 
sweeping glance. They were not such honest-look- 
ing persons as would excite hope in the mind of an 
evangelist. 

On the other hand their appearance was sinister in 
the extreme. They were both tall and powerful fel- 
lows, and had faces that would have done credit to 
any rogues’ gallery in the world. 

As they caught Dan’s eye leveled upon them they 
bowed, with a notable absence of grace or ease, and 
saluted him. 

^Mornin’, stranger,” said the taller, in a kind of 
guttural prowling tone. 

“Mornin’, yerself,” responded the detective, simu- 
lating the dialect he had so lately learned. “Waltz 
in yere an’ take a cheer.” 

The visitors complied with the request, and pro- 
ceeded at once to business. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


29 


“Air you the rooster they call Sycamore Dan?” 
asked the man who had spoken before. 

“Ye’ve guessed it, sure ’nuff,” rejoined Dan. 

“An’ did ye give out as how ye wanted somebody 
fer to guide ye across to Fort Hays?” 

“Kerrect agin. Ye’re doin’ well, so go ahead.” 

“Wal, stranger, me an’ my pard yere will do the 
job fer ye, in good shape at a mod’rit figger. We 
air goin’ back thet way ourselves, an’ ef ye like we’ll 
give ye a h’ist. Is it a go?” 

“It are. What d’ye want in the shape o’ cash?” 

“Wal, we’ll be easy with ye. Say fifty dollars, 
an’ you to furnish grub, boat, an’ all that, we to do 
all the work. Ain’t that easy ’nuff?” 

“It suits me to a T. When will ye be able to open 
up the start?” 

“To-morrow mornin’. Is that soon ’nuff?” 

“Thet will do. Good-day, gentlemen.” 

His guests departed, and Dan gave a sigh of relief. 
At last the vexatious question was settled, and he 
had managed the difficult problem of securing 
guides. He did not half like the appearance of his 
new employees, but he reflected that men were fre- 
quently better than they looked, and added to him- 
self that he was not afraid of any two men who ever 
walked the earth. And so he dismissed the matter 
from his mind without another thought. 

Bright and early in the morning he went down to 
the river, where his boat, all ready for the voyage, 
was lying. It was a trim little craft, of good size, 
but light draught, and very easily paddled through 
the water. The two guides were on hand ahead of 
him, and after making sure that all was fully pre- 
pared, they pushed off, and started up the sluggish 
stream. 


30 


THE PKAIKIE DETECTIVE. 


For a time the men were all silent, each appar- 
ently absorbed in his own thoughts. But after a 
time they grew more companionable, and the con- 
versation ceased to flag. 

Dan learned that both of his companions were 
hunters, who roamed the prairies in summer, and 
spent the colder months in Kansas City or some such 
populous place. The larger of the two, he of the 
guttural voice, gave his name as Jim Slavin, while 
his assistant at the oars, who seldom spoke unless 
questioned, called himself Jack Bobinson. 

The detective, who sat in the stern, steering the 
fragile craft, did not quite trust these fellows, and 
imagined they had lied to him about their names. 
But he said nothing, and waited for some fact to 
turn up, which should either confirm his suspicions 
or set them at rest. In the meantime everything 
went along smoothly, and the voyagers made rapid 
progress. The currents of the Western streams are 
seldom swift, and so, by keeping along close in 
shore, it was not difficult to make good headway. 
They rowed steadily by day, and rested at night, 
sleeping on the ground beside crackling fires, and 
rolled in blankets. 

After two weeks of steady work they turned from 
the broad bed of the Kaw into the Smoky, which 
was heavily swollen by the melting snows. Another 
week in the boat brought them near their destination. 
At last they could see the end of the long journey 
directly before them, only a day ahead. 

Thus far there had been but one slight misunder- 
standing between the master and his men. Learn- 
ing that they had been on the border a good deal in 
the past few years, Dan set about “pumping’’ them, 
to learn what they knew of the man he was search- 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


31 


ing for. He managed his scheme skillfully, but the 
moment Persimmon Bill’s name was mentioned the 
two guides closed up like oysters. He managed to 
learn that they had heard of the great robber, but 
they either would not or could not tell him anything 
definite about the man he was in pursuit of. 

From that time the guides shunned their employer. 
At night, after supper, instead of sitting and smok- 
ing their evening pipe with him, while all three 
talked together about the day’s events, they would 
skulk off together, leaving Dan alone to ruminate in 
solitude. 

He would not have minded this, ordinarily, but 
traveling with them in the midst of a great wilder- 
ness, and more or less at their mercy a large part of 
the time, he felt disturbed at the turn matters had 
taken, and assumed a more watchful demeanor at 
all times. 

For the past two days the men had given up their 
strange behavior, and seemed to have returned to 
the ways they observed before the rupture occurred. 
They were pleasant and affable, and ceased their 
long moonlight walks. One of them even returned 
to the subject of Persimmon Bill of his own accord, 
but did not talk on it very long or very explicitly. 
His object seemed to be the discovery of Dan’s mo- 
tive for inquiring about the robber chief. But the 
detective was too sharp to be caught, and readily 
discovered the design. 

On the last evening of their journey, Burdette and 
Robinson sat by the fire, smoking in silence. Slavin 
had gone away for the ostensible purpose of bringing 
in some wood. He had been absent some moments, 
when Robinson began to talk with a great deal of 
volubility. His manner, so utterly at variance with 


32 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


his usual habit of speaking only in monosyllables, 
attracted Dan’s attention at once,. But the guide 
continued, gesticulating vehemently, and talking on 
all sorts of subjects. 

The detective became suspicious, and fell to 
watching the movements of the man narrowly. As 
the talk waxed faster, Dan became more and more 
firmly convinced that something was at the bottom 
of it, more important than the subject-matter of the 
words seemed to indicate. 

A vague, strange uneasiness was upon him — a 
kind of magnetic presentiment of evil. His active 
brain was trying to solve the mystery when a twig 
cracked close behind him. 

In an instant the whole plot flashed upon him. 
Robinson had talked to attract his attention, while 
the other villain was stealing upon him from the 
rear. 

He sprang partly to his feet, and whirled half 
way around to meet his treacherous assailant. 

But the warning had come too late ; for even as he 
moved a crushing weight fell upon his head, and his 
senses left him. 

The detective fell to the ground, limp and lifeless. 

“Great Heaven! Jim, you have killed him,” ex- 
claimed Robinson, excitedly. 

The older ruffian coolly dropped his club, placed 
his hand upon his victim’s heart, and replied : 

“Sure enough. He’s dead as a herring. Let’s go 
through him.” 

They fell to work examining the pockets of the 
fallen man, but found nothing beyond a hundred 
dollars and some ammunition. 

Dan had wisely concealed his other valuables in 
inner pockets. 


THE PRAIIIIE DETECTIVE. 


33 


When the search was completed the men looked 
at each other in blank amazement. 

“Thunder !” exclaimed Slavin. “Can it be that 
we were wrong in suspecting him? There are no 
proofs.” 

“Well, it’s done now,” rejoined his companion, 
“and we may as well carry the news to the chief. 
For one, I’m sorry we did this. It is an ugly job !” 

“That’s a fact. But as you say, the work is done 
and can’t be helped. What shall we do with the 
carcass?” 

By this time it was quite dark, excepting in the 
narrow circle dimly illumined by the firelight. The 
ghastly face of the detective, smeared and clotted 
with blood, shone out in deathly relief against the 
dark ground. 

As the men looked upon his distorted features, and 
then glanced into the darkness which walled them 
in, they shuddered involuntarily at what they had 
done. 

At that moment the sounds of little wavelets in the 
stream, plashing up against the banks, fell upon 
their ears. 

“Toss it into the river,” said Robinson. “The tide 
will carry it away. And if he is not dead the water 
will finish him.” 

“Good!” responded Slavin. “Dead men tell no 
tales.” 

And the murderers, raising the nerveless figure 
from the ground, bore it to the brink of the stream. 

“Heave ahead!” cried Robinson. 

“One, two, three!” 

As he counted the two men swayed the form of 
Sycamore Dan to and fro. At the word “three” 
they tossed it far out toward the middle of the river, 


34 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


where it fell with a loud splash, and then sank from 
sight in the murky waters which surrounded and 
closed over it like a shroud of darkness. 


CHAPTER IV. 

SYCAMORE DAN MEETS POSEY RYAN. 

The water in the river was ice-cold. As it en- 
veloped the quivering form of the detective, it sent 
a chilling shock through his every vein. But it also 
had another and more satisfactory effect, for it re- 
stored him to consciousness. 

The point where he was thrown into the stream 
was just above a sharp curve in the river-bed. The 
current there was much faster than at places where 
the course lay straight across the prairie, and it car- 
ried the body rapidly away in the darkness. 

Sycamore Dan was out of the sight of his would-be 
assassins within an instant of the time he touched 
the water, and by the time he had returned to a 
knowledge of what was transpiring around him, he 
was fairly beyond the curve. 

When his eyes opened, he was close to the surface 
of the stream, struggling mechanically, for his ac- 
tion was not prompted by any workings of his mind. 
It resulted merely from the instinctive machinery of 
his physical organism. 

He was a capital swimmer, equally at home in the 
water as on dry land. And when he fully realized 
his position, he struck out boldly with all his return- 
ing strength toward the shore. 

The chilling influence of the elements in which he 
was submerged checked the flow of blood somewhat, 
although such a quantity had already passed from 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


35 


him that his system was greatly weakened. The 
difficulty of his work was also greatly augmented by 
the current, which, directly below the sharp point of 
land which, jutting boldly outward, changed the 
course of the stream, sent the full sweep of water 
over against the opposite shore in a diagonal course. 
Therefore, his efforts to reach the bank for which he 
had started brought him almost directly in contact 
with the full force of the heavy current. 

But, knowing his great strength as a swimmer, 
and forgetting that he was laboring under great and 
unusual disadvantages, he plunged courageously 
across the tide, covering the distance with long and 
powerful strokes. 

A dull, aching pain in his head, reminded him of 
the tremendous blow he had received, but he could 
not stop for an instant to investigate his injuries. 
He knew that each second he remained inactive car- 
ried him farther away from the point he desired to 
reach. And so he pushed ahead through the water, 
each sweep of his long arms telling upon his already 
weakened system. 

His large pistols, knife, and box of ammunition 
weighed heavily upon him and checked his progress, 
but still he fought with determination and energy. 

Almost any other man, under those conditions, 
would have unbuckled his belt, and allowed the 
weapons to sink to the bottom of the river. 

But Sycamore Dan was not like ordinary men. He 
was used to peril in every form, and had faced dan- 
ger often. 

The thought of leaving his accouterments behind 
flashed upon his mind, but was dismissed in the same 
breath. It would leave him free, but what of that? 
Even if he succeeded in reaching the shore, what 


36 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


could he do without weapons? 1ST o; he would carry 
them to land with him, or else accompany them to a 
resting-place in the farthest depths of the river. 
They were his best friends, and it was with a feeling 
of loyal pride that he determined not to forsake 
them even for an instant. 

The cold now began to influence him. His sinews 
grew stiff, and his limbs commenced to feel numb. 
The long strokes of his strong arms became shorter 
at each successive effort, and an awful chill crept 
through his frame. He could feel it, first at the ex- 
tremities and then converging toward the central 
parts of his body. Slowly, gradually it approached, 
seeming to freeze his very vitals with its damp, 
clammy touch. 

His muscles grew powerless, and his strokes- more 
feeble as he struggled vainly against the awful sen- 
sation spreading over him. Was it death? In the 
innermost recesses of his heart he almost feared it 
was. But he never once thought of despair. He 
would struggle against fate as long as he could, and 

then Well, what then? He had looked into the 

eyes of the grim monster before, and he could do it 
again without flinching. If he must end his life 
there, it should never be said that he gave up to his 
destiny without a manly effort to save himself. 

But the moment was fast coming when he could 
no longer carry on the unequal contest. His limbs 
refused their office, and he could not control them. 

Slowly his feet sank toward the bottom. His hands 
fell helplessly to his sides. He threw his head back, 
and drew a long, deep breath, which he thought was 
to be the last. Then with his blanched face pointing 
to heaven, and the icy chill enveloping his heart, he 
began to sink. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


37 


His feet touched some hard, unyielding substance. 

The sensation thrilled him like an electric shock. 
In a single particle of an instant the stagnant blood 
rushed through every artery and every vein, with 
hot, fountain-like dashes. Fixing his feet nr the 
ground, he threw himself forward. 

The land ascended gradually, and in less than a 
minute the tall form of Sycamore Dan stood high 
upon the bank. 

But his long struggle had told upon his system. 
The strength of a moment ago fled as rapidly as it 
had come. And with a wild motion of his arms, and 
murmuring, “ Great Heaven, I thank thee!” he fell 
fainting upon the ground. 

He remained there a long time — how long he could 
not tell. When at last the warm tide of restored life 
began to come back he opened his eyes with a 
strange sensation. It was as if some animal, with 
its hot tongue, were licking his face. At first the 
bright light half dazzled him, for the sun had risen 
an hour ago, and its mellow rays fell across his vis- 
ion. 

But presently a deep sigh escaped him, and his 
breath began to come and go again with its old free- 
dom. His first impression he found to be correct. 
Some animal was licking his brow. Just as he was 
about to make a movement to discover what it was, 
a deep and mellow voice fell upon his ear : 

“Come off, Vixen. Don’t ye see thet he’s a-comin’ 
to?” 

The soft tongue immediately ceased to caress him, 
and its owner retired stealthily. 

With an effort Dan turned over to get a sight at 
the person who had spoken. A few paces away, 


38 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


leaning with folded arms upon a long rifle, stood a 
man of striking appearance. 

His figure was large, yet not clumsy. 

His shoulders were broad and noticeably square, 
and his arms were both long and heavy. From his 
face, which was full of determination, one would 
have taken him to be about thirty years old. 

A brown mustache was the only hair growing 
upon his face. 

His attitude was easy and natural, and his whole 
appearance was picturesque in the extreme. 

The animal designated “Vixen,” in response to 
her master’s call, was sitting upon the ground at his 
feet, looking up into his face with an expression of 
intelligence and affection. Han looked from one to 
the other of his new acquaintances with a question- 
ing glance, but finally his eyes settled fixedly upon 
the strange brute which had been wooing back his 
lost consciousness. 

It was an odd-looking beast, and the detective 
could not remember having seen its like before 
among all the long list of family pets he had at 
different times in his life come in contact with. It 
could scarcely have been more than two feet and a 
half in length, and when standing, was about twelve 
or fourteen inches high. 

Its body was covered with long fur, the main color 
of which was a grayish yellow, offset by small spots 
of a darker hue. These spots, instead of being scat- 
tered at random over the whole body, were so dis- 
tributed as to form a series of broken stripes. The 
animal’s head was shaped something like that of an 
ordinary house-cat, its only differences being in- 
creased size, and a thicker, blunter formation. The 
ears were large, and pointed straight upward. At 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


39 


their tips were two little tassels of fur standing per- 
fectly erect. The brute’s tail was short, and adorned 
with a more luxuriant covering than the remainder 
of the body. 

As Dan finished his mental inventory of the pair, 
which was completed in his accustomed rapid man- 
ner, he saw a slight smile pass across the stranger’s 
face. He made a strong effort to rise to his feet, 
but his exhaustion was so complete that the struggle 
was a failure, and he sank back upon his elbow. 

“Mornin’, stranger,” observed the giant, as an 
opening sentence in the conversation. And then, 
without awaiting a reply, he continued: “Reckon 
ye’ve hed a tough racket on’t, hain’t ye? Tliet’s a 
bad clip ye got o’ the craniham. Yere! Take a 
snifter outen this bottle, an’ ye’ll feel better.” 

Coming forward he placed a flask to the detective’s 
lips, and poured a long draught down his throat. 

The liquor had a good effect, and Dan was able to 
sit up. 

“Who are you?” were the first words he uttered. 

“Who am I? Oh, well, I ain’t much of anybody. 
Folks out hyar call me Posey Ryan. I’m a buffaler 
hunter, an’ I live at Fort Harp. Kin I tell ye any 
thin’ mower?” 

All this was spoken with a kind of pleasant sar- 
casm which pleased Dan mightily, and he laughed 
outright. 

“Kum, now,” said Ryan, “quit that laffin’. Ye 
ain’t in no condishun to cackle just yet. Hyar, let 
me hev a squint at thet wound onto yer cocynut.” 

And he fell to examining the long gash made by 
Jim Slavin’s club. 

“Fire an’ brimstone!” he exclaimed. “Tliet’s a 
bad one. Reckon I’ll hev to do it up a leetle.” 


40 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


“Thank you,” responded Dan. “Fll be obliged if 
you will.” 

Before he had fairly delivered himself of this brief 
speech, Ryan produced his bowie-knife and a wet- 
stone. He then proceeded to sharpen his blade, em- 
ploying the time by terse replies to Dan's many 
questions. 

“Thet animile?” he said, throwing a sidelong 
glance at his pet. “Why, thet’s what we call a cata- 
mount. Some folks call it a wild-cat.” 

“But I thought those were not capable of being 
tamed.” 

“Nuther they ain't — ez a ginral thing. Cos why? 
Wal, cos nobody don't know how to git to work at 
'em. This yere one I ketched when she war a leetle 
bit of a kitten, not mor'n three days old. I brot her 
up on the bottle — made a wet-nuss outer myself fer 
her benefit, an 'she 'preshyates it. Don’t ye, gal?” 

The inquiry was addressed to Vixen, who was 
regarding her master with a glance which seemed 
to say she understood every word. By way of reply, 
she rubbed her head against his knee affectionately. 

When Ryan's knife had been sharpened satisfac- 
torily, he shaved away the hair from around Dan’s 
terrible wound, and then with a coarse needle 
stitched the gaping lips together. 

That accomplished, he bound up the spot, thus 
completing a clever bit of border surgery. The 
operation was far from painless, but Dan endured it 
with the stern courage of a stoic. All this time his 
strength was coming back, so that by the aid of 
another refreshing pull at the flask, he was soon 
able to walk. 

Up to this time Ryan had asked no question about 
Dan, and the detective did not feel called upon to 


THE PRAHIIE DETECTIVE. 


41 


explain. But, after awhile, when the two had begun 
their walk up the river, he mentioned the occurrence 
which had led to his condition when found beside 
the stream. He was very much surprised, however, 
when his companion checked his words, saying 
that he already knew what Dan was about to tell 
him. 

“Why, how’s that?” asked the detective. 

“Oh, simple ’nuff. This morning I was prowlin’ 
round over nigh the bank on the Smoky, when I 
ketched sight o’ a camp-fire. Vixen, hyar, beginned 
to git excited, an’ by thet I knowed as how summat 
crooked was goin’ on. So I crept up nigh to the two 
duffers what was in camp, an’ to my wonder, I foun’ 
myself face to face with two o’ the worst men in all 
Persimmon Bill’s bad gang. 

“Now I don’t like thet crowd very derned much, 
an’ so I drawed bead onto the biggest ’un, an’ blazed 
away. He drapped dead into his tracks, but t’other 
one got away. I tried to reach him with my six- 
shooter, but ’twan’t no use, fer the derned thing 
wouldn’t go off. Vixen would hev nabbed him ef it 
hedn’t been fer the boat. He got into thet, an’ 
pushed off fer t’other side, an’ we couldn’t foller, of 
coorse. When I got to camp I foun’ blood all ’round 
onto the grass, an’ also some papers w’ich I knowed 
didn’t belong to neither o’ them snoozers. Then I 
seen tracks leadin’ to the river, an’ I knowed in a 
minnit what was up. So I jest started down the 
Smoky, an’ fin’lly I found ye. Lucky, wasn’t it?” 

“It was indeed. And you say you killed one of 
the men?” 

“*I reckon I did. Fire an’ brimstone! two ounces 
o’ lead through the brain is a good dose fer any 


42 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


rooster. But we’re nigh thar now, an’ ye kin see fer 
yerself.” 

A moment later they reached the spot where Dan 
had been nearly murdered. There, lying cold and 
stark upon the ground, with his glassy eyes fixed on 
space, lay all that was left of Jim Slavin. 

The detective’s rifle was found lying where the 
surviving ruffian in his hasty retreat had left it. 
It’s owner picked up the weapon joyfully, and was 
about to suggest to Ryan that they should begin 
their journey toward the fort, when the borderman 
accosted him for the first time with a serious face. 

“Look hyar, stranger,” he began. “I foun’ ye 
layin’ alone and wounded onto the perairie, an’ I 
restored ye to life, as one man orto do with ’nother. 
So far so good ; but afore you an’ me goes ahead to- 
gether I’ve got to know who ye are, an’ what is yer 
connection with thet Persimmon Bill outfit. If so be 
ye’re squar an’ honest, why all right. But don’t ye 
try to play nothin’ crooked onto me, ’cos I won’t 
stan’ thet.” 

The buffalo hunter had spoken with vehemence. 

Dan reflected an instant before he replied. Why 
should he not tell this man his mission? From the 
fact that he had ruthlessly slain one of the gang it 
was evident that he was the enemy of the band. 
Besides, looking into the face of his newly found 
friend, he saw what told him that any secret would 
be safe in Ryan’s possession. 

Without further parley, then, he recounted his 
former adventures with Bill Creighton, his orders 
from the chief of the Secret Service to capture the 
villain, and the incidents which had already fallen in 
his way. 

The scout heard his story without a word of com- 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


43 


ment, only watching his face to see if he told the 
truth. 

When Dan finished speaking, Ryan held out his 
hand with the single syllable, “Good!” He then 
drew one of his revolvers, and called the detective’s 
attention to the number of notches cut into the 
stock. One of them was quite fresh, evidently hav- 
ing been made within a few hours. 

“What are they?” questioned Sycamore Dan. 

“Every one o’ them nicks stands for a Blood- 
sucker what has sucked his last suck. The one I 
put thar this mornin’ makes the hull number nine. 
Mister Sycamore, you an’ me is on the same lay. 
S’posing’ we form a pardnership an’ work together. 
How does that strike you?” 

“It touches me on the right spot. Let us shake 
hands on it.” 

The two men clasped hands, and then the flask re- 
appeared. 

“Hyar’s to the new firm!” cried Ryan, tossing off 
a bumper. 

“Long life and success to Posey Ryan and Syca- 
more Dan!” assented the detective, following the 
example set by his new “pardner.” 

The two then set off across the prairie, Vixen trot- 
ting at their heels. During the two or three hours 
thus employed they laid their plans, and agreed that 
nothing should be said about the way they had met. 

Dan learned that while his companion had met 
many members of the band of robbers, and had at 
different times joined in desperate encounters with 
them, still he had never knowingly seen the chief. 

In fact, he explained, no one on the border had 
seen him. 

Dan at once described the general appearance of 


44 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


Bill Creighton, and had scarcely finished when Ryan 
fell into a brown study. 

“What are you thinking of ?” asked the detective. 

“Why, jest sich a chap as ye picter hez been at 
Fort Hays all winter. Hez Bill Creighton got a scar 
onto his mug? 

“He has indeed— one particularly livid. It is upon 
his forehead over his left eye.” 

“Great gosh! It’s the same feller. Fire an’ brim- 
stun’, but thet rooster hez got cheek ! Let’s hurry 
up, and we may ketch him yet. He was thar’ when 
I left, three days ago.” 

The two friends pressed ahead, and arrived at the 
door of old Doc Harper’s cabin just in time to hear 
Esther’s last sentences, as described in a previous 
chapter. 

As the deep bass tones of the scout fell upon the 
ears of those assembled within the hut, all turned to 
see the speaker, who was recognized at once, and in- 
vited to enter. Nothing loth he walked through the 
door-way, followed by Dan and Vixen. 

The detective was introduced at once as an old 
friend and former partner of Ryan’s, under the title 
he had previously assumed. 

The conversation became general, Dan talking in 
an animated way, falling hack again into the dia- 
lect he had picked up during his brief stay in Kan- 
sas City. 

The wound in his scalp was explained by a story 
to the effect that he had received it in an encounter 
with a buffalo which he had wounded. Such mat- 
ters were of frequent occurrence, and he was readily 
believed. 

After some further conversation about Persimmon 
Bill, during which Dan professed ignorance of the 


THE PRAI11IE DETECTIVE. 


45 


robber chief’s identity, the party began to talk of 
the time for starting out upon the annual hunt. 

“When d’ye start?” asked Ryan. 

“To-morrow morning,” replied Marian. Do you go 
with the train?” 

“What a curious question,” responded the scout. 
“Did ye ever know a huntin’ party to start ’thout 
Posey Ryan bein’ along? An’ thet reminds me ez 
how my traps need a leetle fixin’ afore we go much 
furder. 

“So come along, Dan.” 

The partners walked away to complete prepara- 
tions for joining the company going out to scour the 
plains for buffaloes. 


o 


46 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


CHAPTER V. 

TRAITORS IN CAMP. 

As soon as Dan and Posey had left Doc Harper’s 
hut, silence fell upon the group. The sisters stood 
in the open door-way gazing after the men who had 
gone, while their father, with eyes fixed on the 
ground and hands folded, seemed trying to read an 
answer to some deep and perplexing problem. 

After some moments spent thus, the girls fell into 
conversation, the subject, naturally enough, being 
the two persons who were nearly out of sight down 
the main street. 

“What a strange looking man,” said Esther, in an 
abstracted way. 

“Which of them, sister?” was the questioning re- 
sponse of Marian. 

Her sister turned with a merry twinkle in her eye. 

“Why, both of them, for that matter. But you 
need not be jealous, because I was not then referring 
to the personal appearance of Posey Ryan.” 

Marian colored up to the roots of her hair, but said 
nothing in reply to the sly thrust her sister had ad- 
ministered. 

“No,” continued Esther; “I meant the stranger — 
Sycamore Dan, I believe they called him. Did you 
notice what strange manners he has?” 

“I did not see so much in his manner as I did in 
his eyes. Why, sister, they are wonderful. When 
he looked at me he appeared to read every thought 
in my heart. I never felt so strangely in my life.” 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


47 


“Yes, that struck me, too. When his eyes met 
mine I felt fascinated. I could not look away from 
him, if it had been to save my life. Then, too, there 
were marks about him which told me he was not 
always used to this rough life. He seemed to be 
foreign to it, and yet acclimated. I own frankly, 
that I cannot altogether understand him.” 

“What was it you noticed, sister? He seemed to 
me like all the other men about here, excepting the 
peculiarity of his eyes.” 

“Hid you see his hands?” 

“I don’t know that I paid particular attention to 
them. Why do you ask?” 

“They were as white and as soft as a woman’s. 
The palms were unmarked by the little tufts of cal- 
lous flesh which all men used to rough work have on 
theirs. Mark my words, there is some mystery 
about him, and I will solve it before I get through.” 

“Esther, my dear,” said her father, who had been 
so thoroughy absorbed in his thoughts that her 
words did not reach him, “come here a moment, 
please.” 

The daughters both responded to his call. 

“What is it, father?” asked the girl. 

“Ryan, before he went away, gave me a word of 
whispered advice, and I have been thinking whether 
it is best to abide by it or not. 

°I have finally decided that it shall be as you say.” 

“What is it, father? Speak on.” 

“He heard enough of what passed concerning 
Persimmon Bill, to make up his mind that some- 
thing must be done to avert possible danger. When 
the men have left this spot for the buffalo trail, the 
post will be greatly weakened. The fact that the 
chief of the Bloodsuckers has been here all winter, 


48 THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 

leads to the belief that he contemplates a raid on the 
place, and that theory is strengthened by the vague 
threats he uttered to you. If he thought he could 
capture and carry you off, I am sure he would not 
hesitate an instant in his work. Therefore, to get 
way from this seemingly threatened calamity, I 
have thought it best to ask you if there is any reason 
why you would not like to join the party of hunters? 
The trip will be a trying one to you, but it is best to 
be on the safe side in times of probable danger.” 

Esther did not hesitate in her reply. In fact, her 
face was crimsoned by a flush of eagerness. 

“Why, of course, I will go. You know it has al- 
ways been my pet wish. But Marian must accom- 
pany me, for I should feel lonesome without her in 
the company of so many men.” 

“Of course she will go,” replied Harper. “She was 
included in the proposition.” 

The girls were highly delighted at the exciting 
prospect, and at once set about making preparations 
for their departure. 

Ryan and Dan lost no time in purchasing what 
few supplies were necessary for their trip, and then 
proceeded to the cabin occupied by the former, in 
order to get everything in readiness. 

“Do you think,” observed the detective, at the 
same time drawing the wet charges from his pistols, 
as a preparatory measure to cleaning them— “do 
you think we stand a better chance of catching 
our man by joining this party of hunters than 
we should by remaining here? My theory is that 
Bill Creighton has been in town all winter for no 
other purpose than with a view of getting points 
which will serve him for a future raid upon the 
place.” 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


49 


“Thet’s very true,” responded Ryan, coolly; “but 
from what I heerd Esther Harper say, I’m dog- 
oned sure thet Mister Persimmon is dead gone on her. 
How, thet bein’ the case, ef we want to ketch the 
rooster, our best plan is to be jest whar the above 
named female is, for wharever she goes, ye kin bet 
your life thet the chap we want will be foun’ thar 
sooner or later.” 

But surely she is not going on the hunt? Why, 
the rough life would kill her.” 

“Kill nothin’ ! Sycamore Dan, them gals ain’t the 
kind what kills easy. Besides, they hev wanted to 
go on the buffaler trail fer the past three or four 
years, but the old man wouldn’t hev it. As it is now, 
however, he is skeered to leave ’em alone, an’ he’ll 
be likely to let ’em go with us. To make sure of it, 
I advised him thet it was his best holt— an’ he thinks 
considerable of what I say.” 

“It would be a pity if anything should befall them,” 
said Dan. They are so young and so beautiful. By 
George, those sisters are as handsome as pictures!” 

“You bet they be ! An’ I’m right glad to see thet ye 
hev got some sense about ye, pard. Them gals git 
’way ahead o’ anythin’ I ever see in the way o’ kali- 
ker.” 

And so the two sat and talked for an hour, work- 
ing meantime upon their weapons. The remainder 
of the day was spent in sundry preparations, and 
they retired early to bed in order that they might be 
up with the sun next morning. 

By four o’clock, just as the day began to break, 
the whole town was astir. Horses were brought out 
and saddled, pack-mules were loaded with provis- 
ions, blankets, tents, and cooking utensils ; and, be- 
fore the sun was fairly in sight, the long cavalcade 


50 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


filed out of the main street upon the prairie stretch- 
ing miles away to the westward. 

Their progress was slow and without organization 
at first ; but gradually, as they went ahead, the line 
assumed more regularity of motion, and with that, 
of course, a faster gait. 

The sisters, fresh and rosy in their pretty brown 
riding dresses, were the center of attraction to all 
the men, each of whom seemed determined that no 
effort should be spared to make the journey pleasant 
for them. These attentions were very agreeable to 
Esther and Marian, for where is your young woman 
who does not enjoy a little of the flattery which such 
special and marked kindnesses imply. 

During the afternoon the sisters became separated. 
A tall, dark-haired man reined his horse to the side 
of Marian, and the two fell into conversation. The 
girl did not like this fellow, and her greeting was 
not what might be called cordial. He, however, did 
not seem inclined to resent the rebuff she gave him, 
but began to talk in a subdued tone, though with a 
vehement manner. 

He was not a remarkably handsome man. He 
was long and lank, and his face was thin and 
hatchet-shaped. His yellow, cadaverous skin seemed 
to fairly cling to his bones, and flesh was as scarce 
upon his frame as if he had been a boarding-house 
turkey ; and there was a kind of lowering, unreli- 
able glance in his eyes which indicated a fickle and 
untrustworthy disposition. Marian disliked this 
man intensely, principally because he seemed deter- 
mined to pursue her through all time with a passion 
which she could not and would not reciprocate. 

On the morning in question they spoke for some 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


51 


moments in an undertone, already indicated, and 
then, unconsciously, their voices grew louder. 

“Have I not told you,” she said, indignantly, 
“never to speak to me upon that subject again?” 

“Yes. But how can I avoid it, when it is so near 
my heart?” 

“It must be avoided. How, I care not.” 

“But why are you so cold toward me? I have 
some money, and could provide you with a comfort- 
able home. Then, too, I am not altogether ugly to 
look at, and, greater than all, I love you! Is not 
that enough to make you merciful to me?” 

The man looked at her with an appealing expres- 
sion in his eyes. Marian was not hard-hearted, but 
she thoroughly despised this person, and could 
scarcely endure his presence, not counting the tenac- 
ity with which he urged his repugnant suit upon 
her. She could not avoid pitying him, because she 
knew his passion was hopeless. She had the fam- 
ily trait of firmness, and having once fairly made 
up her mind no mortal power could change her de- 
termination. 

Turning in her saddle so. as to face him squarely, 
he said, without a quiver in her rich voice : 

“Hick Hatfield, I am sorry that you have ever 
thought of me other than as a friend. I am sorry 
that love for me has entered your heart. But as it 
is so, and through no encouragement on my part, I 
cannot remedy or help the matter. I do not love 
you. That being the fact, I would not marry you if 
you were as rich as Croesus, and as handsome as 
Apollo. When I say it I mean it, every word, and it 
is as useless for you to attempt to alter my decision 
as it would be for you to try and fly to the summit of 


52 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


yonder mountain. You have heard my decision. Do 
not wait to hear more.” 

Hatfield remained silent for a moment. He had 
been sent away empty-handed before, but never so 
decidedly as now. He was a man used to having 
his own way, and he could [not sit patiently and 
brook delay. His heart was in an instant whirling 
with mad passion. Dark schemes rose there and 
blackened his whole soul. A glance of vengeful 
cunning shot from his eyes, boding ill to the young 
girl by his side, and with a muttered imprecation he 
put spurs to his horse and rode away. 

Marian had seen the ugly look upon his face, but 
it did not trouble her. She was fully conscious of the 
right of her position. The blood which flowed in 
her veins came from stock which knew not the 
meaning of that little word fear. And while she 
knew very well what sort of a man Dick Hatfield 
was, she was far from standing in any awe of him. 
So she only laughed softly to herself as he left her. 

In the meantime Dan, having observed that Esther 
was riding alone, took the opportunity to become 
more thoroughly acquainted with her. From what 
he had learned of the way Persimmon Bill regarded 
her, and its probable result, he thought it extremely 
likely that he would soon be thrown into close con- 
tact with her. In addition to this motive for seeking 
her acquaintance, he may have been attracted by 
other causes. 

As he came from behind, she did not see him, for 
some occult reason, I know not what. Dan at once 
imagined that her ignorance of his presence was 
more assumed than real, and so, rather than gratify 
her evident wish to be surprised by the sound of his 
voice, he rode along, a little in the rear, in silence. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


53 


As he had surmised, she became restive under 
this novel treatment, and finally, after a little while, 
adopted new tactics. Allowing her face to turn as 
she appeared to examine the broad circle of the 
horizon, her eyes fell suddenly upon him. Starting 
in her saddle with well simulated surprise, she ex- 
claimed, with affected displeasure : 

“Ah! You here?” 

Dan looked at her with a glance that was half 
piercing and half roguish. She could not carry out 
the deception under that searching examination, 
and her eyes fell. This was enough for the detec- 
tive, for it showed him that he had conquered her 
first attempt to give him a false impression. 

“Why, yes,” he responded, in answer to her ques- 
tion. “I’ve been here for the past ten minutes.” 

“Indeed?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he continued, suddenly remember- 
ing his dialect. “I didn’t know as how thar was any 
harm in that.” 

Esther noticed the change, and her eyes went 
straight to his face. It was Dan’s turn to be dis- 
comfited now, but he stood her mute inquiry with 
the fortitude to which a life of danger had inured 
him. 

The girl surveyed him carefully from head to foot 
before she spoke again. When her eyes had com- 
pleted that task she said, in a calm, measured voice : 

“Let me see. I believe you said yesterday that 
you were an old partner of Posey Ryan’s. When 
did you separate?” 

“Oh, some years ago,” responded the detective, 
with a vague notion that he was being quizzed. 

“Where have you been since then?” she contin- 
ued, without stopping. 


54 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


“The man who hesitates is lost/’ thought Dan to 
himself, and without another instant of reflection he 
plunged into his old story of trapping on the banks 
of the Wabash. He did not stop at the assertion 
either, but gave, with great minuteness, the full de- 
tails of his work there, and described at length some 
of the hardships of the life he had led. She heard 
him through quietly, and at one time, so apparently 
truthful was his manner, she almost felt tempted to 
believe him. But when she looked at his soft white 
hands, and at about the same time he let slip a word 
or two which did not accord with his assumed 
character, she became more fully convinced than 
ever that Sycamore was not what he seemed. 

Silence ensued. She was thinking. Who could 
he be, and why did he seek to hide his name? She 
had heard often that young men of wealth and re- 
finement in the East, through some indiscretion or 
crime, were often obliged to leave their homes and 
fly to the Western country in order to avoid arrest 
and disgrace. Could Dan be one of these ?” 

Before she reached this stage in her reflection, Dan 
had begun to wonder what was employing her mind. 
He watched her narrowly for a few minutes. Then 
reining his horse so close to hers that their rough 
coats touched together, and stooping over a trifle in 
the saddle, he spoke in a low tone : 

“What are you thinking so busily about, Miss 
Harper?” 

There was a strange, soft music in his voice. 

She looked up hurriedly, caught her breath as if 
she was startled, and then replied : 

“Do you wish me to be frank?” 

“Why, of course I do,” he replied. 

And he meant every word he said. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


55 


“Well, then,” she continued, looking him firmly in 
the eye, “I was wondering who you are, and why 
you are taking up this rough life on the plains. 
Doubtless you have some good reason for not telling 
me the truth about yourself. But before you are 
found out by some person who is not so lenient as I 
am, go and get your hands hardened and sunburned. 
You must also be more careful not to lapse from 
the dialect you have assumed. You should exhibit 
greater caution.” 

For the first time in his life Dan Burdette felt 
guilty, and for the first time in his life he blushed 
and looked away. Yet ho experienced no sensation 
of shame. In fact, the feeling he underwent at 
that moment was considerably out of his line, and 
he failed to understand it altogether. His tongue, 
usually so voluble, came near failing him utterly, 
and it was only after a moment of thought that he 
managed to stammer out something about “not in- 
tending any deceit.” 

That brought a laugh to Esther’s lips. 

“Oh, don’t bother yourself to explain. I was only 
warning you for your own good ” 

“But I choose to explain,” said Dan, resolutely, 
with some of his own bearing. “You have found me 
out. Well, I am glad it was you and no one else, for 
I can trust you to keep the matter secret. You are 
right. I do not belong to this rough life, nor it to me. 
I am here with a mission — an important one. I am 
sorry that I cannot tell you what it is, nor why I 
have come. Of that you will learn when the object 
of my presence here is achieved. But I can tell you, 
without violation of my pledges, that I am thrown 
among you by nothing that can bring you the slight- 
est harm, and that* behind all my assumed charac- 


56 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


ters there is a man of honor and integrity. When 
the time comes I shall show you irrefutable evidence 
that I have spoken the truth .’ 5 

Dan had spoken with a great deal of force, al- 
though very quietly. Esther’s eyes and his had not 
parted during the whole time, and when he finished 
she held out her hand. 

“I believe you are honest this time,” she said, 
seriously; and then, with a laugh, “but you don’t 
talk like a buffalo hunter always.” 

“I shall be more careful in future,” rejoined the 
detective, pleasantly. “But I may rely upon you to 
keep my secret?” 

“You may rely upon me.” 

Their hands had“ remained together for a full 
minute now, and it was only after just the faintest 
touch of a pressure that he allowed the little gloved 
fingers to slip from his own. 

It was by this time almost sundown, and the camp 
was pitched upon the bank of a *tiny rivulet, whose 
basin was shaded with green trees budded into 
life. 

Soon darkness settled about the camp, and the 
party, after supper, gathered in little knots near the 
fire to smoke or tell stories. But these amusements 
did not last very long. A day’s travel on the plains, 
particularly at that season, when the turf is fresh 
and progress laborious, tires out the strongest men. 

Therefore the sentinels were posted early, and the 
buffalo hunters retired to their blankets. 

Dan lay for some hours with his feet to the fire, 
trying in vain to sleep. It was curious, he reflected’ 
that he should have been discovered by a girl. Alas, 
fee did not know at that time how much finer a 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


57 


woman’s perceptions are than those of a man ! But 
he found it out afterward. 

After a time Dan’s eyelids drooped slowly to- 
gether, but shut them ever so tightly he could not 
close out the image of a fair young face with red 
cheeks, and black eyes and blue-black hair. It 
would not be banished. 



a scene in camp. — (Chap. Y.) 


Suddenly Dan felt a warm breath on his neck. 
Then a cold, damp nose was rubbed against his 
warm skin. He opened his eyes, and met Vixen’s 
two burning coals leveled upon him. 


58 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


“Confound the beast !” he muttered. “Go away! 
Get out and let me sleep!” 

But Vixen would not get out. She ran off for a 
few steps, and then, coming back, seized the detec- 
tive’s coat-sleeve in her teeth. Next she began to 
tug as if trying to drag him away. 

At that instant it occurred to Dan that Ryan had 
said the animal had this way of asking to be fol- 
lowed. 

“I wonder what on earth she wants?” he mut- 
tered, sitting up. 

As he reached this position he saw a movement as 
if somebody was stealing away in the darkness. 
Quick as thought he threw himself back upon the 
blanket and began to watch the retreating form. 
He understood now what Vixen had wanted him to 
see. 

As soon as the person he was looking after had 
reached a safe distance Dan rose to his feet and 
stole stealthily away in pursuit. Moving with cau- 
tion he was able to keep just in sight, and yet not at- 
tract attention. The man, whoeVer he was, went 
straight up the course of the creek, as if going to 
some secret rendezvous. 

Dan followed noiselessly, determining that what- 
ever might be the destination of the person he 
watched,, not to be deprived of knowing all about it. 

Vixen, who was creeping along in the darkness 
just ahead of the detective, came to a stand-still. 
Dan halted also, fancying that his guide had seen 
the man ahead of them stop. 

But the animal turned her eyes toward him, and 
he could see them glow again like two fiery stars. 
He knew she had discovered something, and he crept 
forward carefully to see what it was. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


59 


Sycamore Dan was beginning to understand 
Ryan’s pet. 

He stooped down over Vixen. She was gazing 
fixedly at some object lying on the ground. Her 
feet were planted firmly, her hair bristled toward 
her head, and she was breathing with a strange, 
hissing sound. 

What could that dark object be stretched upon the 
prairie? Dan reached forward and touched it. The 
body of a man ! 

It was still warm, but fast becoming rigid. The 
detective passed his hand over the recumbent figure 
until he touched blood still flowing from a wound. 
Kneeling closer he examined the face. 

He saw that it was one of the sentinels, and that 
his throat was cut from ear to ear. 


60 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


CHAPTER VI. 

PLOTS. 

Dan was horrified. Had he not been used to sights 
of blood his terrible discovery would have paralyzed 
him. But his whole life had thrown him among 
desperate characters and merciless scoundrels with 
whom murder was little more than an ordinary 
undertaking. Constant intimacy with this dark side 
of human nature had hardened his nerves more or 
less, and had dulled his appreciation of the full hor- 
ror of revolting crimes. 

But in spite of the stern schooling he had under- 
gone he could not forbear to shudder at the cold- 
blooded atrocity of the murder that had just been 
brought to his knowledge. 

“The villain!” he muttered between his teeth. 
“He shall be made to pay for this. But I wonder 
where he has gone. Come, Vixen! lead on, or we 
shall lose him.” 

The animal, with an intelligent glance, trotted 
quietly away, Dan following as rapidly as possi- 
ble with an eye to noiselessness. The journey was 
not a long one. Vixen had not traveled far when 
she came to another halt as sudden as the previous 
one. The detective, who had given up peering into 
the darkness, and now trusted to her sagacity to find 
out the best paths, saw her quick stop, and himself 
ceased to move with equal celerity. 

The time Vixen had chosen could not have been 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


61 


better planned, for Dan had no sooner come to a 
stand-still than he heard voices not far ahead. 

4 4 Halloa!” he thought; “two of them, eh? We 
shall have to look into this.” 

He then stooped over so as to bring his lips close 
to the ear of Vixen, and whispered the single word 
“Ryan,” accompanying the direction with a gesture 
which was intended to be a command for her to 
leave him. 

She understood him perfectly. Giving her comi- 
cal-looking bob-tail a couple of jerks to signify com- 
pliance, she started away at a fast trot upon the 
back track. When the detective was sure she had 
gone he turned his attention to the more important 
work around him. 

Bending his head he could hear the sound of voices, 
but found it impossible to understand what was 
being said. He realized the advisability of learning 
all that was going on, for he fully believed that some 
underhand work was in progress. Therefore, with- 
out a thought of the danger of his position, he moved 
silently, but with rapidity, toward the spot from 
whence the voices emanated. 

Sycamore Dan was an adept in the art of gliding 
about unheard, and this fact was demonstrated by 
his success in approaching, undiscovered, so close to 
the men that he could hear every syllable they spoke. 

The first words which fell upon his ear caused him 
to start involuntarily. They were spoken by 1 Dick 
Hatfield. 

“You take my message to the chief. He will know 
by what you say that the attack must be made soon 
— before the party is thoroughly organized. You 
will also tell him that the girls are both with us. Per- 
simmon Bill is not the man to let chances slip.” 


62 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


“You bet yer life,” responded the person to whom 
Hatfield was talking. 

If Dan had been interested before, he was excited 
now. His eyes snapped with hatred, his hands 
clenched closely, and he became fairly rigid in his 
attempt to control his excitement. It was strange 
what an effect was produced by the simple sound of 
a voice. But the whole matter becomes very simple 
when we know that the last words were spoken by 
no other person than Jack Robinson, the man who 
had helped in the attempt to murder him on the 
bank of the Smoky. 

“You sneaking coward,” muttered the detective. 
“I’ll have a chance before long, I hope, to get even 
with you for that piece of work.” 

It was only by exercising the utmost restraint that 
he was able to control his desire to rush out and 
shoot the men down like dogs where they stood. 
But fortunately for his plans he reflected that by 
such a course he might spoil his entire chances. If 
he kept silent and bided his time he should probably 
learn the schemes of the robbers before their con- 
templated attack could be made. This would give 
the buffalo hunters a great advantage, and might 
possibly secure him the end he was seeking at the 
risk of his own life. 

Therefore, calling all the vast strength of his will 
to his help, he repressed his emotion and listened. 

All this had been the work of an instant, flashing 
through his active brain so quickly that he did not 
miss a line of the conversation. 

Robinson went on with what he was saying. 

“How soon should the attack be made? Tell me, 
so that I can post Bill.” 

“Well, it ought to be within a day or two, because 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


63 


after that the men in our party will have grown 
used to each other, and it will be more difficult on 
that account to defeat them.” 

“That’s a fact. How far do you go'in a day?” 

“Not more than thirty miles, I should think. Large 
bodies move slowly, you know.” 

Just as the plotters reached this stage of their talk, 
Dan, who was listening so intently that he had be- 
come oblivious of all other surroundings, felt some- 
thing soft rubbing against his ankles. It was Vixen, 
who had returned. An instant later the huge form of 
Posey Ryan loomed up in the darkness, and the two 
partners pressed each other’s hand. 

Robinson was spaking when Ryan 'arrived upon 
the scene. 

“Where shall you be to-morrow night at this 
time?” 

“I don’t know exactly. Our course is due west, 
and we shall in all probability have traveled about 
thirty miles, as I told you.” 

“Good. If I follow along, can you manage to get 
out and meet me?” 

“I don’t know about that. It is not easy to get 
away from camp. Why, even to-night I was de- 
tected as I came up the creek, and in order to avoid 
questions, I had to kill a man— one of the sentries.” 

Robinson laughed. 

“That’s right, my friend. You come out every 
night, and kill a man as you come. If you do that 
we can afford to wait a week or two.” 

“Oh, that’s all very well, Jack Robinson,” returned 
Hatfield, in a tone which implied that it was not very 
well, “but I ain’t fond of murder.” 

“What, growing chicken-hearted? I’m "ashamed 
for you.” 


64 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


Dan clutched Ryan’s arm. He was becoming very 
much excited. 

“No, I ain’t a coward; hut killing a man is one 
thing, and murder’s another. They’re both bad 
enough, Heaven knows, but while I have my choice 
I’d. rather take the least of two evils.” 

“Yas, consarn yer black hide!” muttered Ryan, 
between his teeth. 'Afore you an’ me settles up I’ll 
show ye a game worth two o’ that!” 

The men now began to get ready for a separation, 
and the two watchers drew back to allow Hatfield 
to pass them. Just as he was about to say good- 
night to his companion a thought that had escaped 
his memory seemed to return. He stopped, wheeled 
about, and addressed a question to Robinson. 

"Oh, by the way, where is the chief?” 

This was the very inquiry Dan wanted to make. 
If he could learn of Bill Creighton’s whereabouts 
he would not give him time to attack the camp, but 
would take the initial steps himself. 

The partners listened with deep anxiety for the 
reply. Robinson laughed at the question. 

"Bill? Why, ain’t you known him long enough to 
be better posted than to ask such a question? Surely 
you know that he never tells anybody where he is 
going. Oh, no. He’s too shrewd for that.” 

"But how will you find him?” 

"I sha’n’t.” 

"Well, then, how in thunder are you going to give 
him my message?” 

Dick Hatfield was in no mood for trifling, and the 
evasive replies of his brother villain roused his ire. 
Robinson saw at a glance that he had made a mis- 
take. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


65 


“I beg pardon, old chap. You musn’t get excited 
over what I say.” 

“Oh, stow that palaver. If you don’t want to quar- 
rel, why don’t you answer my questions?” growled 
Hatfield, in surly tones 

“I will, if you give me time. When Bill wants me, 
he will hunt me up. That’s how I am to give him 
the message.” 

“All right. Follow us to-morrow, and meet me at 
night, wherever we may be. I may have important 
news for you. Good-night.” 

“Good-night.” 

The schemers separated, Robinson to mount his 
horse and ride away, while his companion in crime 
retraced his steps toward the camp, passing so close 
to Dan and Ryan that they could have touched him 
had they chosen. 

The detective was disappointed. Just as he had 
been on the verge of discovering a vital point he was 
thwarted. He had always known Creighton as a 
bold and wary foe, and now he realized to its fullest 
extent the difficulty of the work he had been as- 
signed. 

Moody and disheartened, he turned to go back 
over the same path he had come. 

“Wal, pard,” said his friend, in a low tone, as 
they walked slowly along, “what kind of a ’tarnal 
racket is this?” 

“It is a scheme to steal Esther and Marian, I 
fancy, and at the same time rob the party of what- 
ever they have got. But it must fail.” 

“Of course it must. Ye don’t think we chaps is 
goin’ to stan’ by an’ see our gals carted off, do ye? 
Fire an brimstun’ ! It will be a thunderin’ bad job 
for the rooster what tackles it. You hear me?” 


66 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


“But if they attack us, and prove the stronger, 
what are we going to do?” 

“Why we’re goin’ to fight until every durned one 
o’ that Bloodsucker outfit is sent whar he b’long— 
down to the infernal regions. Thet’s what we’re 
goin’ to do.” 

“That is good talk, partner, but we must take 
care not to give them any advantage.” 

“Ye kin bet yer boots we won’t,” rejoined Ryan, 
laconically. 

The men had now reached the spot where the mur- 
dered sentinel lay upon the ground. Lifting him ten- 
derly in their arms they proceeded as fast as possible 
to the camp, where they covered the body with a 
blanket and retired to rest, without awakening any 
one. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


67 


CHAPTER VII. 

BLOCKING THE GAME. 

The morning dawned dull and gray. Dan and 
Ryan were up as soon as the first faint streak of 
light made its appearance. Soon the entire camp was 
stirring, and the men were getting ready for their 
day’s work. The detective and his partner kept their 
eyes on Hatfield, who moved from place to place like 
a man suffering under some vague foreboding of 
evil. Evidently he had not slept during the night. 
The murdered sentry had not yet been missed, 
although the other sentinels were already in camp, 
awaiting their breakfast. 

Ryan watched his opportunity, when several of 
the hunters were standing about, and then deter- 
mined on a startling experiment. Standing close to 
the blanket which hid the face of the dead man, he 
raised his voice so as to be distinctly heard for some 
distance in all directions. 

“Hatfield!” he called out, in a tone which at- 
tracted general attention. “Come over hyar a min- 
net, won’t ye? I’ve summat to tell ye.” 

The murderer obeyed the summons mechanically, 
supposing Ryan’s request was bona fide. As he came 
nearer the old scout affected to notice for the first 
time his haggard appearance. 

“Why, hello!” he cried. “Ye couldn’t hev slep’ 
well last night, I reckon. Ye look like a corpus!” 

Hatfield started as the scout’s words fell upon his 
ear. He detected the hidden meaning in his tone, 


68 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


and turned a shade paler. But he was in no wise 
disconcerted, and managed to stammer out a re- 
sponse. 

“Well, no. I can’t say that I did sleep very well. 
I was troubled with dreams.” 

Ryan was silent a moment, as if pondering on the 
reply. Dan stood close beside his partner, appar- 
ently a disinterested spectator, but in reality watch- 
ing with the keenest of glances the workings of 
Dick Hatfield’s cadaverous face. The scout retained 
his thoughtful mood only a minute. Then with a 
slow, drawling voice that was inexpressibly odd, he 
continued : 

“Dreams, hey? Wal, now, I wonder what a man 
could dream of, to make him look so ’tarnal outer 
sorts. Fire an’ brimstun! I should think nothin’ 
shorter’n a reg’lar night-hoss could hev sich a effeck 
— say the dream o’ a murder /” 

Again a change passed over the repulsive visage 
of the assassin. He cast one sharp glance into the 
face of his tormentor, but the outlines were as rigid 
as marble, and he could as easily have penetrated a 
mask. It was only a coincidence, he thought, but 
he was impatient at the chaffing he was subjected to. 

“Is this all you have called me for?” he asked, 
with some asperity in his tones. 

Ryan suddenly became very serious. The smile 
died out of his expression instantaneously, and was 
replaced by a look of unpitying sternness. 

“No, Mister Hatfield,” he said, slowly and with 
great distinctness. “Thet war not quite all. I b’leve 
ez how I said I wanted to show ye summat. Pard- 
ner,” he continued, addressing Dan, “won’t ye be 
kind enough to h’ist thet blanket?” . 

The detective’s motion was as sudden and quick as 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


69 


had been the request of his friend. With a dex- 
trous wave of his hand he removed the covering, so 
that the body was exposed to view. 

Quite a large party of the hunters, attracted by 
the voices, had been drawn to the spot, and now 
stood horror-struck, gazing at the sight presented to 
them. 

As soon as Hatfield saw the bloody corpse he ut- 
tered a hoarse cry, and staggered back a step or 
two, as if he had been struck a heavy blow. The 
sickly hue of his face was rendered more hideous by 
a dull gray pallor, and his eyes seemed fairly to 
start from their sockets. His jaw dropped, his teeth 
chattered, and his limbs shook beneath his weight. 
He could not speak, but only gasped for breath. 

Dan and Ryan did not lose an item in his manifes- 
tations of guilt, which had become apparent to 
everybody around. Hatfield made several strong 
efforts to check the great emotion which shook his 
frame, and after some moments he so far succeeded 
as to be able to exclaim, in a kind of gurgling voice : 

“I didn’t do it— I didn’t do it!” 

That caused Ryan to laugh, for he saw how com- 
pletely entrapped the sneaking scoundrel was. 

u O, ye didn’t, hey? Fire an’ brimstun! who sed 
ye did? How look hyar, Mister Dick Hatfield, ye’re 
a liar, an’ ye know it ! This hyar murder was done 
by your hand. Deny it ef ye kin ! When ye waltzed 
outen this camp las’ night ye was f offered. D’ye un- 
derstand — f offered. An’ more’n thet, every word 
ye exchanged with thet cuss, Jack Robinson, was 
heerd by my pardner an’ me. The proof is too 
strong agin ye, my boy — fire an’ brimstun, but it is ! ” 

During this time Hatfield was recovering himself. 
He knew in an instant that he was caught, and he 


70 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


could see that the evidence of Ryan and Dan would 
fall against him. He reflected that he was far from 
being a favorite with the hunters, and it needed no 
second thought to tell him that they would not be- 
lieve a word he might say. There seemed to be but 
one chance for liberty— that was to make a straight 
dash to where his horse was tethered, mount, and 
fly. It was a desperate thought, but nothing short 
of desperation could save him. He knew it, and 
resolved to make the attempt. 

With a loud curse, and an almost inconceivably 
quick movement, he bounded toward Ryan', draw- 
ing his bowie as he came. But, agile and muscular 
as he was, he had made a late start, for the ever- 
watchful eyes of the detective had divined his pur- 
pose as soon as it had been formed. 

Sycamore Dan was nothing if not quick, and his 
motions, though few, were as rapid as a flash of 
lightning. Dick Hatfield had not taken two steps 
when the detective’s long right arm straightened 
out with the swiftness of a bolt from the cross-bow, 
and his bony knuckles caught the fugitive squarely 
between the eyes. 

The sound of that terrific blow was sickening. It 
was like the dull thud of a huge club in the hands of 
a strong man falling upon the ribs of some poor 
beast of burden. The blow would have felled an ox. 
As it was, Hatfield was fairly lifted from the 
ground, and then fell a senseless mass of flesh at the 
feet of the surrounding crowd. 

The stunning effect of the stroke was so thorough 
that, after an instant of tremulous quivering, the 
body stiffened out as rigid as death. 

“Fire and brimstun!” exclaimed Ryan, “how did 
ye do thet? Why, Go-lier hisself couldn’t hev hit 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


71 


out like ye did then. Spooks an’ tarantalers, but I 
b’lieve he’s dead. ” 

“Oh, no, he isn’t,” responded Dan, coolly. 
Then remembering his dialect, he continued : 

“He’ll git over it afore long. Jest put his head to 
soak, an’ lay him one side fer awhile.” 

“Great snakes!” rejoined Kyan. “Why, I’d ez 
lief be struck by a yearthquake ez to hev a tap o’ 
thet kind. W-h-e-w!” and he ended his comment by 
a long-drawn whistle, which was half indicative of 
surprise and half of admiration. 

It was a sad morning in camp. Hunters, as a rule, 
like every class of men made up for the most part of 
low or bigoted natures, are given to superstitions. 
They believe that if a hunting trip begins with suc- 
cess, it will be attended by the same thing all the 
way through ; and they also imagine that if the first 
day or two is darkened by ill fortune, they will not 
meet with good luck during the entire trip. The hun- 
ters we have accompanied thus far looked upon the 
death of their companion as a common misfortune, 
which would have an equal effect on all of them. 

The murder was to them an infallible omen of dis- 
aster. It told them, through their superstitious fancy 
that before they should again return to Fort Hays 
and their families, there would be more bloodshed 
and greater loss of life. They were gloomy and ab- 
stracted all day. 

But it is only just to them to say that the quiet and 
darkness which fell upon the camp was not caused 
by this selfish thought alone. The men sincerely 
mourned the loss of their companion, who had been 
a brave and daring hunter. They felt keen and un- 
speakable sorrow that he had met such an untimely 
fate. 


72 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


Just after sunrise, an hour later than the murder 
had been made known, the body was deposited in a 
new-made grave, with the homely services at the 
command of the hunters. 

The party, then, with heavy hearts, prepared to 
resume their journey. 

Hatfield had not yet returned to consciousness, and 
it was an open question whether he ever would. 
They knew he was not dead, because there was an 
almost imperceptible pulsation over the place where 
his heart ought to have been, if he had possessed 
such a commodity, which I doubt. 

It was some time before they could decide what to 
do with him. Some wanted to go on and leave him 
lying on the prairie. Others desired to wait until he 
should regain his senses, and then try him for the 
murder, and hang him. One or two of the sterner 
members of the company advocated blowing out his 
brains and leaving him to furnish food for the 
wolves and vultures. 

But the majority would hear of no such work. 
They said it was too much like the crime with which 
he himself had been charged. That would not be 
justice, even though he did richly deserve death. It 
would be murder. They were still perplexed about 
the question, when Ryan, after consulting a few 
moments with Sycamore Dan, came to the rescue. 
Said he : 

“Peeraps, feller-citizens, seein’ as how me an’ my 
pardner hez rooted out this game, so far, ye’ll Tow 
me to make a sijjeschun.” 

That was just what they wanted, and they sig- 
nified their compliance with his wish at once. 

“Wal,” he continued, “I propose thet we cart him 
Tong till to-night, anyhow. Ef he’s a-goin’ to come 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


73 


to hisself at all, he’ll do it afore then. An’ ef he’s 
a-goin’ to hand in his chips, he’ll do thet, likewise. 
Purvidin’ he lives, we kin organize court an’ try him 
then. Thet’s my sijjeschun, an’ my pardner sez he’s 
agreeable.” 

The. company were not backward in seeing the 
force of Ryan’s proposal, and acceded to it without a 
dissenting voice. A hammock was slung between 
two horses, and the limp carcass of Dick Hatfield 
was placed in it. After that the cavalcade pro- 
ceeded on its way. 

Dan and Ryan rode along slowly behind the litter 
containing the murderer in silence. Each was bound 
up in his own thoughts. They rode thus for an hour, 
and were only aroused from their reveries by a faint 
moan from the man they were both thinking about. 

“Hello!” exclaimed Ryan; “he’s cornin’ to hisself 
agin. Blessed ef I thought he’d ever git over thet 
lick ye give him onto his snoot.” 

They rode up beside the improvised couch.' Hat- 
field had opened his eyes, and was looking about him 
in a half-dazed way, as if his mind were completely 
at sea. But the moment his glance once fell upon 
the faces of the two men peering at him, the scene of 
the morning flashed across his mind, and he glared 
at them like a wild beast. If his hands had not been 
pinioned he would have attempted again to escape, 
weak as he was. But he was firmly bound, and so 
could only lie still and gnash his long teeth with 
rage. 

His captors were not the men to crow over a fallen 
enemy under any circumstances, and they drew 
back so as to avoid even the appearance of exulta- 
tion. A new thought struck Dan. How strange he 
had not dreamed of it before. 


74 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


“Posey!” he exclaimed, with sudden vehemence. 

“Whoa!” responded Ryan, tugging at the bit of 
his horse, which had taken fright at Dan’s ejacula- 
tion and the gesture which accompanied it. The 
animal pranced about for several minutes before it 
could be induced to approach again the man who 
had startled it. 

“Fire an’ brimstun! D’ye want to git my ’tarnal 
neck broke? ’Cos ef ye do, jest holler agin like 
that.” 

Dan was convulsed by his friend’s comical at- 
tempts to check his fiery steed, and as soon as he 
could recover his gravity, he proceeded to unfold the 
plan which had just dawned upon him. 

“Why not lay a trap for Robinson to-night? Have 
you thought of it?” 

“Thet’s jest whar I war thinkin’ of when ye 
belched out an’ skeered my nag. I think it’s a good 
idee. Kin ye imitate voices?” 

“How do you mean?” 

“Why, kin ye make yer voice soun’ like it came 
from some other feller?” 

“Oh, you mean can I ventriloquize.” 

Ryan swung round in his saddle so suddenly that 
he came very near unseating himself, and then 
gazed fixedly but doubtingly at his companion. 

“Is it so had az thet, old man?” he asked, in vague 
wonder. 

“What do you mean?” questioned Dan. 

“Look a-hyar old pard,” continued the hunter, 
with extreme gravity, ‘ef lever do anythin’, what’s 
mean or crooked, jest fire thet word at me agin. 
But ez long ez I’m a squar’, decent sort of a chap, 
don’t ye chaw no more dicshunaries ’round whar I 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


75 


am. Spooks an’ catamounts ! but ye liked to a took 
away my breath.” 

“Did I?” was Dan’s innocent rejoinder, although 
the struggle to keep his face straight was a difficult 
one. 

“Yas, ye did, an’ don’t ye do it agin. Wal, what 
I was agoin’ to say was, d’ye s’pose, ef ye was in 
the dark, ye could imitate the voice of Dick Hatfield 
so’s to git thet Robinson chap up dost whar we 
could grab him?” 

“I can try, anyhow,” responded the detective, 
with an air which implied some confidence in his own 
powers. “We will make the attempt, anyhow.” 

The subject was dropped then, and the partners 
separated. During the afternoon Dan found time 
for a little conversation with Esther. She received 
him graciously, and listened with interest to his 
account of the manner in which he had tracked Hat- 
field on the previous night. The detective thought 
it best, however, to refrain from telling her that the 
attack of the Bloodsuckers was to be made for the 
purpose of carrying away herself and her sisters. 
The announcement might cause her useless anxiety, 
and, in any event, could be productive of no essen- 
tial good. He passed a very pleasant hour in her 
company, but was not so thoroughly absorbed as to 
be unable to discern that Ryan and Marian Harper 
were in close and eager conversation by themselves. 

The party halted a trifle earlier than usual that 
afternoon, for the second day of a journey is always 
the most wearisome, 'and the horses were utterly 
fagged out. After supper the sentinels were posted, 
and an extra guard was thrown out, to remove any 
anxiety which might be felt by the more timid mem- 


76 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


bers of the company concerning the possibilities of 
an attack. 

The spot chosen was not far from the edge of a 
clump ’of trees. Dan and Ryan, at their own request, 
were selected to guard the camp on that side, and 
took their rifles in hand for the purpose of assuming 
their duties shortly after dark. 

“Why did you pick out this place?” asked the de- 
tective, as they walked toward the grove. 

“Wal, cos ef Robinson comes to-night, heTl be 
purty derned likely to waltz in from this direction.” 

“Why so?” 

“This mess o’ trees will hide him from bein’ seen 
by the people in camp. Anybody who hed ever been 
on the border orto know thet.” 

They had soon concealed themselves in the under- 
brush, and settled down to await the coming of 
events. 

Vixen lay upon the ground between them, regard- 
ing first one and then the other with her great lus- 
trous eyes, and emitting a sound which resembled 
the purr of a cat. She had taken a great liking to 
Dan, and apparently looked upon him as a kind of 
second master. 

“Does she often take fancies to people, as she has 
to me?” he questioned, stroking her head gently. 

“]STo. In fack, it’s doggoned few people she’ll hev 
anythin’ to do with. But she’s got me down so fine 
thet whenever she sees me along of anybody, an’ 
kinder takin’ a hitch to ’em, it’s all she wants in 
order to f oiler my example. She’s a mighty know- 
ing beast, is Vixen, an’ ef she could only talk United 
States, she’d be better nor human.” 

Ryan’s pet seemed to appreciate his compliment, 
for she turned her head so as to regard him more 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 77 

fully. The scout noticed the movement, and smiled. 
Then patting her head he continued : 

“But ef she can’t talk she understans evrythin’ 
that’s sed to her jest ez well ez if she was a na- 
tive. She an’ I hez ben pardners onto the border for 
purty nigh six year, now, an’ we sticks to each 
other jist ez pardners orto. Don’t we, my gal?” 

Vixen rose from her recumbent position and 
climbed upon Ryan’s chest reaching forward so as 
to lick his face. 

Dan was deeply affected by the evident warm 
feeling which existed between them. He was on the 
point of passing some comment when the strange 
pet pricked up her ears as if a sound had fallen upon 
her hearing. She sprang lightly from her perch on 
her master’s breast, and ran up the trunk of a partly 
fallen tree lying near by. 

Throwing back her head, she sniffed the air as if 
her keen scent had detected some strange property 
in the atmosphere. 

“Wal, Vixen,” said Ryan, in a low tone, “what is 
it ye smell?” 

The animal trotted back to his feet, and uttered a 
low and ominous growl. 

“What does she mean?” asked the detective. 

“She means thet our man is cornin’.” 

“How can you divine her thoughts?” 

“Wal, I reckon it’s a kind of instink. It ain’t very 
often thet I make a mistake, though.” 

Then turning to Vixen, he added : 

“Who is it, gal? Is it Robinson?” 

The ominous growl was repeated. 

“Thar!” exclaimed Ryan, in tones of triumph. 
“Didn/t I tell ye so?” 


78 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


The men were already prepared for action, and so 
only waited for the approach of their prey. 

By listening intently they were soon able to dis- 
cern the footfalls of a horse, coming nearer and 
nearer, with a long, loping stride. Then the noise 
ceased for a moment. 

“Heavens! He has taken fright,” ejaculated Dan, 
in dismay. 

As he spoke the wild and mournful cry of a pan- 
ther was borne upon the wind. 

“Nary fright, old hoss,” responded Ryan. “He’s 
only signalin’ — that’s all.” 

The scout was an excellent imitator of all wild 
animals, and the reverberations of Robinson’s voice 
had scarcely died away when he uttered a similar 
noise. 

Then the sound of the horse’s hoofs were heard 
again for a few moments, but moving slower and 
with more caution than before. In a short time 
they ceased, and the quick, short bark of the 
prairie-dog followed the halt. 

“He’s feelin’ his way,” observed Ryan, signifi- 
cantly, at the same time repeating the sound. 
Shortly afterward the watchers were able to hear 
the approaching horse’s every step, and when the 
third halt came they could make out the dim out- 
lines of beast and rider in the darkness. 

“Dick Hatfield!” were the words, spoken in low 
but distinct tones. “Are you there?” 

“I am,” responded Dan, in a voice which was a tol- 
erably fair imitation of the man who was lying 
bound and gagged in camp. 

“Come nearer,” he continued ; “the coast is clear.” 

Robinson urged his horse forward within a few 
paces of the detective. But the night was so black 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 79 

that he could scarcely have discovered the identity 
of the man he was talking with, even if h e had been 
brought face to face with him^ 

“I saw the chief to-day/’ he began. “The attack 
^is arranged for to-night.” 

In the alarm caused by this sudden announce- 
ment, Dan came very near betraying himself ; but 
by a strong effort he checked the words which were 
on his lips, and said: 

“Good enough! At what time will they be here?” 

“About two o’clock. You will be ready for them, 
of course?” 

“Yes, I will,” responded the detective, emphati- 
cally, forgetting for a moment his assumed charac- 
ter. 

The change in his voice was noticed at once by 
Robinson, who started in his saddle, and gathered 
up the reins of his horse. 

“Duped, by Heaven !” he exclaimed. “But whoever 
you are, you shall never live to tell the tale.” 

And quick as thought his hand flew to the holster 
in which he carried his revolver. 

His motion was rapid, but fruitless; for during 
the foregoing conversation Ryan had crept noise- 
lessly around to the opposite side of his horse. At 
the first movement toward the pistol he rose from 
the grass, bounded into the air, caught the villain 
around the neck with both hands, and dragged him 
to the ground in an instant. 

With his sinewy fingers firmly clutched in Robin- 
son’s throat, and his knee upon his chest, Ryan 
spoke between his teeth, with terrible earnestness: 

“Make one sound, give one yelp, an’ I’ll wring 
yer neck like I’d choke a chicken, D’ye hear?” 


80 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


Gasping for breath, Robinson managed to gurgle 
out an affirmative response. 

By this time Dan had prepared some heavy thongs 
of buckskin, with which he bound the robber se- 
curely. That duty performed, Ryan removed his 
hands from his throat, in order not to suffocate him. 

The two partners stood side by side, waiting in 
stern silence for their victim to recover his breath. 
After some difficulty he succeeded to such an ex- 
tent that he was able to speak a few words. The 
first sentence he uttered was this : 

“Who are you fellows, anyhow?” 

“Oh, ye’ll fin’ thet out soon enough,” responded 
Ryan, dryly. 

“But I’d like to know now.” 

The detective took a match from his pocket, and 
struck it on a stone. As the bright blaze shone full 
in his face he exclaimed : 

“Look, then, and see!” 

The robber uttered a groan of dismay and terror. 
His whole frame shook like an aspen leaf and he 
was fairly convulsed with fear. Quavering and 
broken was his voice as he blurted out : 

“Sycamore Dan! — or— or— his ghost!” 

“Oho, my fine, blooming rose! So you do know 
me, hey? Well, young man, how do you like it?” 

Robinson was silent. He was agitated to such an 
extent that he could not speak. 

“Wal,” said Ryan, “thar ain’t no use in hangin’ 
round hyar. It’s nigh onto midnight now, an’ ez 
Mister Jack Robinson hez been kind enough to sijjest 
it, we must git ready to receive our frens when 
they come. So let’s trot over to cgmp.” 

Not very gently they lifted their captive, and 
started toward the spot where the hunters were 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


81 


quietly reposing. Dan was carrying Robinson’s 
feet, while Ryan upheld the other end. Accidentally, 
or by design, the scout dropped his burden, and the 
robber’s head came in violent contact with the 
ground. 

“I axes yer par ding,” said Ryan, with mock sol- 
emnity. “Did it hurt ye?” 

Robinson replied with a terrible anathema, ac- 
cusing the scout with having allowed him to fall on 
purpose. 

“My darlin’,” continued the hunter, in an apolo- 
getic tone, as he picked up the robber by the hair of 
his head, “I wouldn’t hurt ye for the world. Don’t 
ye know how much I love ye? Go ahead, Dan.” 

In five minutes they had arrived at their destina- 
tion, and in ten the whole camp was aroused and 
preparing to greet the Bloodsuckers as soon as they 
should arrive. 

Robinson and Hatfield were tossed side by side 
upon the ground, and employed the time in abusing 
each other for having “bungled the job,” as they 
phrased it. 

Then the camp relapsed into silence, the men lying 
upon their arms, waiting for the time of action, 
while the girls sat together in their tent, anxious, yet 
hopeful. 

The time sped by rapidly. At two o’clock, sharp, 
the sound of many horses was heard, their hoofs 
clattering loudly upon the frozen earth. Nearer and 
nearer they came, and the hunters rose upon their 
knees, clutching their rifles firmly to resist the at- 
tack. Suddenly, the sounds ceased. The Blood- 
suckers had stopped. 

“They’re gittin’ ready to charge,” said Ryan, 
calmly. “Stand solid, boys, an’ kill every derned 


82 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


black-hearted thief ye kin draw a bead on. Ah! 
here they come!” 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE DEFEAT. 

As the attacking party approached, the thump, 
thump, thump of their horses’ feet sounded like the 
approach of a cavalry regiment. 

To the men lying there awaiting the onslaught, 
it seemed like an age of weary, anxious waiting. 
With guns to their shoulders and ready cocked the 
defensive hunters watched for the instant when 
their foes should have approached so close that every 
shot would have its effect. Their scheme was to 
allow the robbers to come almost fairly upon them 
before they opened fire, thus taking their enemies 
completely by surprise, as they in turn had hoped 
to take them. 

Louder and louder sounded the lioof-strokes upon 
the hard ground, as the robbers came first within 
rifle range, then closer, until they could have been 
picked off with pistol balls, and finally so near that a 
stone thrown from the hand would easily have 
reached them. By this time every hunter was half 
erect, resting upon one knee, and glancing along 
the shining barrel of his tried and trusty gun. 

Every nerve was strained to its utmost -tension ; 
every finger was ready to press the spring which 
would send a leaden messenger of death upon their 
mission. Why did not Ryan give the signal? 

Not a man in the party but asked the question 
mentally, half in impatience. The Bloodsuckers 
drew nearer and nearer, and yet there was no sign 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


83 


from the captain of the hunters. What did it mean? 

The oncoming horses were almost upon the men 
lying in wait. Heavens ! it would be too late in 
another instant. Ah ! at last it came, clear and calm 
through the crisp air, spoken like an ordinary, com- 
monplace word upon an every-day occasion of quiet 
and peace. 

“Fire!” 

A blinding flash of flame, running along the en- 
tire front ; a sound like the simultaneous crack of a 
hundred whips ; a wild yell of dismay on one hand, 
followed by stirring, triumphant cheers on the other • 
and then cheers, curses, yells, and oaths com- 
mingled with the sounds of clashing arms, the pain- 
ful cries of wounded horses, and the bitter groans of 
mutilated and dying men. 

The black night was livid with the bright streaks 
of discharging fire-arms, and bullets whizzed 
through the air in every conceivable direction. 

The solid front of the robber force shuddered, 
wavered, and drew back. 

“Hooroar boys!” yelled Ryan, urging his men to 
renewed efforts. “They’re beat! Up, an’ at ’em 
agin afore they kin git over the dose we’ve given 
’em!” 

But he had miscalculated the nature of the foe 
with whom he had to contend. The repulse onlv re- 
doubled their fury. Although they had never been 
met by such a determined resistance, they had been 
so often in battles which required perseverance and 
desperate fighting, that their organization was com- 
plete. 

The hunters labored under circumstances that 
were quite the reverse. All winter they had been 
separate, undrilled, and idle. They had not yet 


84 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


grown used to each other, and were thus unfitted for 
general and serious fighting, although against the 
rambling bands of hostile savages who roam the 
plains, they would undoubtedly have proved very 
easily victorious. But they had not been used to 
working under any one particular chief, whose 
habits they had learned and in whom they had by 
long association acquired confidence. Their disad- 
vantages, on the whole, were very great. 

It took the captain of the Bloodsuckers but an in- 
stant to reorganize his men. He knew that it would 
never do to allow them to be defeated, because such 
a fact would demoralize them for future action. 

So, with a terrible oath, Bill Creighton rode to 
the head of his company and gave the order to charge 
again. Then, with a revolver in each hand, and 
the whole pack in full cry at his heels, he started 
forward at an impetuous gallop which nothing could 
withstand. 

The fight was desperate and bitter, but it could not 
last long. The hunters contested every inch of 
ground, like true men; but they were battling 
against a foe which their number could not over- 
come — they could only check its progress. 

Dan was very quick to see the condition of affairs, 
and the utter hopelessness of the cause of his friends. 
His thoughts reverted at once to the helpless girls, 
waiting in their tent for the result of the fight, and 
not dreaming that it would end in disaster for them. 
Already the tide of battle was working toward the 
spot where they sat. He could tell that by the 
sounds of fire-arms falling upon his ears. 

Until this time he had fought with but one object, 
the defeat of Bill Creighton. But, as the thought 
flashed upon him that Marian and Esther were in 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


85 

immediate danger, a new purpose took possession of 
him, and added fresh vigor to his powerful arm. 

He became almost frenzied by his desire to reach 
the place where they were left alone and unpro- 
tected. If they should be captured by the fiendish 
ruffian who commanded the Bloodsuckers — he shud- 
dered at the thought — their fate, he knew full well, 
would be beyond the power of words to describe. 
It would be a hundred times worse than the bitter- 
est death. 

Sycamore Dan had never realized until now what a 
precious boon is woman. She had always occupied 
in his mind a secondary position. But, as he pic- 
tured to himself those beautiful girls, full of the 
freshness and innocence, and loveliness of youth — 
as he thought of the fearful position in which they 
were placed, he became nearly crazed with a desire 
to be where he could protect them, until the last, 
from the great peril which surrounded them on 
every hand. He must save them. 

Nerved and strengthened by his noble determina- 
tion, he fought with the fury of a tiger. With his 
heavy bowie-knife he made long sweeps which 
opened a space before him as he went. Eleven times 
did his hand come down with the velocity of light- 
ning, and eleven of the Bloodsuckers writhed upon 
the ground in the agony of mortal wounds. 

He was like one of the seven furies let loose from 
bondage. His eyes blazed with the great anger of 
battle, and his long, lithe form, towering above 
those around him, pressed forward toward the goal 
he sought, with a determination which would have 
stricken terror to the hearts of the bravest foe. 

At last, bleeding from many wounds, but with 


86 THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 

rigid determination stamped on every feature, he 
found himself at the door of the tent. 

Tearing away the light covering, he shouted, at 
the top of his voice. 

‘ ‘ Esther ! Marian ! Fly for your li ves ! r ’ 

No answer. 

Stooping, he peered through the darkness, but 
could not hear a sound within the narrow inclosure. 
He walked forward, and passed his hands hurriedly 
over the blankets. They were still warm from re- 
cent occupation, but the tent was empty. 

“Great Heaven \” he cried, in despair. “They 
have fallen into the hands of Persimmon Bill ! They 
are lost — lost !” 

His face was white with consternation, and his 
arms nervelessly dropped to his sides, as he thought 
of the imminent, perhaps fatal, danger to which 
the beautiful daughters of old Doc Harper were 
thus exposed. 

* * * * * * * 

Ryan, who from the time when the first rifle was 
discharged, seemed to be in the element for which 
he was born, discovered that the battle was a losing 
investment at about the same time as that fact 
dawned upon the active brain of his friend and part- 
ner, Sycamore Dan. 

But he was in no wflse disconcerted by the dis- 
covery. It was sufficient for him that a battle was 
going on. The more desperate it grew, the greater 
was his content. Posey Ryan would rather fight 
than do almost anything else he could think of, and 
so he struck out against the tide which was sweep- 
ing away his companions with a calm smile of hap- 
piness in his face and great throbs of satisfaction in 
his heart. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


87 


“It’s your turn now, doggone ye!” he muttered, 
with a grin, as with the butt of his rifle he smashed 
to atoms the skull of a man who had thrust a re- 
volver into his face; “but the time hez got to come, 
my fine chaps, when old man Ryan will hev the best 
o’ the argyment. An’ when thet time does come,” 
he continued, fairly severing a Bloodsucker’s head 
from his body by a long sweep of his knife, “ye kin 
bet I’ll make it tarnal lively for ye.” 

Then for a few moments he was too busy to do 
much thinking. Three or four of the robbers at- 
tacked him at once, and he was obliged to keep 
every energy upon the qui vive in order to avoid be^ig 
killed. But his opponents could not have known the 
man they were fighting with, else they would have 
chosen some other foeman not so formidable. 

With one hand he threw his bowie so terribly 
straight, and with such fearful accuracy, that the 
long blade was buried to the hilt in the throat of 
the man nearest him. Then clubbing his heavy 
rifle, he struck out with such strength and rapidity 
that in less time than it takes me to put the fact on 
paper he had felled the last of the party which at- 
tacked him. 

Thus he was left for a moment alone in the midst 
of a cleared space. 

“Great snakes!” he exclaimed, “them two fellers 
we captoored yisterday will git away ez sure ez 
eggs is eggs, ef we are licked so bad ez I think we 
shall be. But I reckon, seein’ ez how my time’s 
unockkpyed jest now, thet I’ll go an’ put them roos- 
ters outen ther misery.” 

Seizing his knife again he ran rapidly over to the 
spot where Hatfield and Robinson had been left 
bound hand and foot. 


88 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


When he had approached close enough to discern 
objects, he was somewhat astonished to observe that 
only one of the prisoners was still lying where both 
had been placed. Stooping over, he saw that it was 
Robinson, who was writhing about in his excite- 
ment, tearing up huge mouthfuls of grass. He was 
in a wild state of frenzy. 

Ryan looked at him a moment in perfect satisfac- 
tion that the villain should be having such justly de- 
served agony. 

But where was Hatfield? Bending down and catch- 
ing Robinson firmly by the collar, he jerked him upon 
his back, and asked : 

“Whar’s yer pardner?” 

“Gone, blast him!” replied the man, in angry 
tones. “He got away an hour ago, and left me here. 
But I’ll get even with him one of*these days!” 

At this point Robinson broke into a series of the 
worst curses it is possible to imagine. He was al- 
most insane with resentment at the action of his for- 
mer friend. 

“Shet up, dern ye!” ejaculated Ryan, in a voice 
which indicated that ^.disobedience would not be 
healthy. 

The victim obeyed with celerity. 

Ryan thought an instant before he spoke again. 
Then he seemed to have made up his mind to the 
performance of some new scheme. Turning to Robin- 
son, he said : 

“Would ye like very much to git even with Mister 
Hatfield for the little game he’s served ye with?” 

Robinson sat bolt upright. 

“Would I? Why, I would wade to my neck in 
melted lead to repay the trick ! I would ” 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


89 


“Never mind what ye’d do. I kem hyar fer the 
purpose o’ cuttin’ yer throat from ear to ear, an’ I’d 
a-done it, too, ef yer pardner hed ben hyar to share 
my ’tenshuns with ye. But ez it is, I hev thought 
o’ givin’ ye ’nother shake fer yer life. Will ye 
• agree to what I axes of yer?” 

“Agree? I’ll agree to anything!” 

“Don’t be so fast, young feller,” observed Ryan, 
smiling calmly. “What I’m agoin’ to ax ye is this: 
Ef I turn ye loose, will ye help us to git the twist 
onto yer chief? Will ye do this fer the sake o’ 
scoopin’ in Dick Hatfield?” 

“Do it? I will — well, just try me.” 

“I’ll do it, Jack Robinson, bad ez ye are. But 
mind ye,” continued the scout, as he cut the bonds 
of his prisoner, “ef I ketch ye doin’ one single, 
’tarnal thing what’s crooked, I’ll bore ye fuller o’ 
holes nor the top o’ a pepper-box.” 

Robinson vouchsafed no response, but as soon as 
he was released Ryan handed him a gun, and the 
two started at a rapid, swinging pace away from the 
spot where death was holding high carnival. 


90 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


CHAPTER IX. 

ESTHER AND VIXEN. 

Esther Harper and her sister Marian sat in the 
tent during the greater part of the battle which 
raged furiously without. 

As the sounds of the fierce conflict advanced or 
receded, indicating thus the temporary success of 
one party or another, the hearts of these two girls, 
sitting wrapped in each other’s arms, bounded with 
exultation or shrank with fear. Every nerve and 
every sinew in their delicate organisms were strained 
to their utmost tension, as they strove to discern by 
the noises outside which way the tide of battle was 
turning. 

Silent, absorbed, bound so closely in each other’s 
embrace that each could detect the heart of her sis- 
ter, beating tumultuously as the hot blood rushed 
through their veins, they sat as motionless as 
statues. The strain upon their systems was continous 
and intense. 

They sat thus for a time, which, though short in 
reality, seemed in their vivid imaginations to stretch 
away into an endless eternity of miserable suspense. 

But after a while, when the waves of battle had 
come forward and receded many times, they could 
tell beyond all doubt that at last the struggle was 
approaching in the direction of the spot occupied 
by them. There was no room for denying that the 
hunters were being beaten, step by step, yielding 
every succeeding inch of ground only after the most 


THE PEAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


91 


desperate struggle to retain it. The din and clash 
of arms told plainer than words that the fight was 
determined and plucky, but the men were losing 
steadily. 

As the storm came nearer and nearer, the girls 
unconsciously rose to their feet, still standing with 
their arms entwining each other in a fond embrace. 
Their faces were pale, but not with fear. They did 
not quail or shrink. 

“Dear sister,” said Esther, quietly, “our position 
now is a dangerous one. A flying, random bullet 
may at any moment come tearing through this frail 
covering and strike one or both of us to the earth.” _ 

“I am not afraid, darling Esther,” responded the 
younger, with evidences of undaunted courage. 
“We will put our trust in Heaven, and if God has so, 
decreed it, we will die togetb.br. But for ourselves I 
have no fear. My heart goes out in anxiety for the 
lives of those who are fighting so bravely for us. 
Let us hope that no harm shall come to them.” 

“Yes. Our father is among that brave band. Pray 
Heaven he may escape unhurt.” 

“That I do. But I will not be selfish in my wishes. 
There are others— many of them— who are, in my 
mind, equally entitled to our prayers. They are, 
indeed, brave and generous men to risk their lives 
for us.” 

“True, sister, true. Let us go down on our knees 
and beg our Father in heaven to watch over and 
protect them. Surely He will listen to our voices at 
such a time as this.” 

And there in the murky darkness, alone with their 
God, who rules the battles, the winds, and the floods, 
those two virgin hearts were lifted up in earnest 
supplication. Long and tearfully the innocent girls 


92 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


pleaded, without one thought of their own danger, 
and without a single reference to the trying situation 
in which they themselves were placed. 

Their souls were too great to be hampered by sel- 
fish motives, and too trustful of the goodness and 
eternal wisdom of Him to whom they prayed, to 
imagine for one moment that He would forsake 
them in any pass, however trying. 

They were two noble, large-hearted girls, well 
worthy the emulation of others, the world over. 
Their supplication ended, they arose just in time to 
meet their father, face to face, as with hair stream- 
ing in the wind, and the blood trickling from a long 
and jagged wound upon his forehead, he brushed 
the door of the tent hastily aside and entered. The 
hard lines in his face, the stern, cold glitter of his 
eyes, told that the fight was lost. 

“Oh, father,” cried Esther, “you are wounded.” 

“It is nothing,” responded the old man, hur- 
riedly. “We must fly from here, and at once.” 

“Then all is lost! Is there no hope?” 

“Of whipping these fiends, no! Of escape, yes. 
There is hope of freedom, if we lose no time. Follow 
me on the instant.” 

The girls needed no second bidding, but passed 
after their father out into the turmoil and rage of 
battle without an instant of hesitation. 

Old Doc Harper, though bleeding from a number 
of wounds upon his person, fought with desperate 
energy. His sturdy efforts would have done credit 
to a man not one-third of his ripe old age. Totally 
unmindful of his rapidly passing years, and f orget- 
ting in the excitement of the moment that his 
strength was not equal to the strain it would easily 
have sustained twenty years ago, he undertook the 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


93 


trying task of cutting the way for himself and chil- 
dren. But the Bloodsuckers closed in around him 
rapidly, and he was soon surrounded by ten or a 
dozen men, against whom his efforts were hopeless. 

In the encounter which followed the girls were 
separated, Marian clinging closely to her father, 
while Esther was thrust rudely to one side by the 
ruffians, who were, however, too intent upon their 
task of overcoming her father to notice who she was. 

For an instant after she had been torn from those 
she loved she remained irresolute. Then a vague, 
indefinite fear took possession of her, and before she 
could question the motive which urged her on, she 
turned and fled. 

Heedless of many falls and bruises, and moved by 
an impulse which she strove in vain to check, she flew 
along over the ground with rapidity. She knew that 
she was not doing right to leave her parent and sis- 
ter alone in the hands of the murdering band, but 
she could no more have stopped in her wild flight 
than she could have moved the world from its course. 
The irresistible law of self-preservation guided her 
steps, and would not be gainsaid. It was a strug- 
gle of nature against will, and for the time being 
the former was triumphant. 

Half unconscious, yet actuated by the dim terror 
which had seized her and nerved her on, she sped 
over the ground with renewed rapidity. The sounds 
of the battle grew fainter and fainter in the far dis- 
tance, and still Esther plunged ahead, now tripping 
over some obstacle and falling heavily to the ground, 
then springing again to her feet, and dashing away 
at the top of her speed. 

For an hour her pace did not slacken or her 
strength abate. But the exertion was so violent that 


94 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


sooner or later she must have succumbed. It was 
an unequal contest, and although she struggled on 
with pluck and energy, her overtaxed system at last 
gave way under the strain. She had been strong 
through many trials and much hardship ; but when 
her power began to fade under the load she had 
taken upon herself, it departed with extreme sud- 
denness. 

Almost before she could realize that she was 
fatigued, she found herself overcome by a feeling of 
drowsy faintness. Determined efforts she made to 
shake off the new and unwelcome sensation, but 
they were all to no purpose, for each succeeding 
moment found her weaker than before. Her limbs 
tottered under her, and her feet became as heavy as 
lead. A dull lethargy settled upon her whole being 
like a black pall of night. With sublime courage 
she struggled to rouse herself and call back her de- 
parted energy, but the attempt was only successful 
for a moment. She staggered forward a few paces 
farther, and then the" great weakness overcame her 
beyond the power of resistance. Deep and impene- 
trable gloom settled over her vision ; a low rumbling 
noise sounded inher ears ; the strength in her limbs 
went out ; and with a scarcely perceptible groan she 
sank upon the ground at the foot of a huge tree. 

She had fainted from exhaustion. 

Through the following hours of that long night she 
remained helpless and unconscious, lying in the bed 
of soft, fragrant mosses where she had fallen. The 
warm sun, bathing the world with liquid glory, 
looked upon her, lying breathless and apparently 
powerless, and the wide-spreading branches of 
the old forest monarch held over her like a pro- 
tecting canopy. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


95 


And the sun took pity upon her. He cast his 
warmest rays upon her cold and motionless form, 
encircling her in an embrace that would have wooed 
a marble statue into life. He surrounded her with 
his loving arms ; he bathed her damp temples with 
stimulating nectar; he passed his tender fingers 
through her ebony locks and drew the stagnant 
blood from her heart into the veins and arteries of 
her body and limbs. His touch was lighter than 
that of a nurse, warmer than the pressure of a lover. 
He breathed into her nostrils, and her chest ex- 
panded tremulously. He kissed her lips, and they 
parted in a gentle smile. 

She was coming back to life. 

Her eyelids trembled lightly for an instant, and 
then opened slowly and listlessly. A faint, unsteady 
“"sigh escaped her lips. Gradually a consciousness 
of what had passed came back to her. She remem- 
bered that she had been overcome by fatigue, and 
had fallen upon the softly tufted bed of moss which 
surrounded her. 

But it did not occur to her that she had fainted. 
That was something to which she had never become 
y used, even in the remotest way. She scarcely knew 
Jhe meaning of the word. To strong natures like 
hers the possibility of being overcome by fatigue, to 
such an extent as to lose consciousness, never pre- 
sents itself. She imagined that she had merely been 
asleep. 

She saw at a glance that it was long past her usual 
hour for rising. 

“I must have overslept,” she murmured to herself. 
“I will get up at once, and make the best of my way 
back to Fort Hays.” 

She attempted to rise. It was a failure, for she 


96 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


could not move hand or foot. There was a strange 
sensation around her. It was like some strong in- 
ternal cord holding her muscles in its power. Again 
she tried to sit up. It was impossible for her to 
move. 

The strange feeling about her heart increased, 
and grew stronger and more powerful every instant. 
It was a vague yet subtle bond, which held her as 
firmly as a chain. She knew not how to explain the 
strange dullness which seemed to be growing upon 
her. In fact the imprisonment was rather agreeable 
than otherwise. She seemed to yield gradually to 
the new influence. A delicious languor began to en- 
velop her senses. It was a calm, delightful feeling 
of repose. As the sense of fascination grew upon 
her, she felt attracted toward a given point. Her 
eyes wandered mechanically whither the subtle 
charm drew them, and she was utterly powerless to 
change their course. 

Indeed there seemed to be no reason why she 
should strive to avoid the spell which guided her 
vision. Surely there was no harm in basking in the 
mellow sunlight, and giving way to the sweet rest- 
fulness which encompassed her. Slowly her eyes 
were drawn toward that single spot. She could not 
avoid the inclination to look straight down into her 
lap. As her vision rested upon that one particular 
point she became convulsed with horror. 

Her eyes dilated, and glared with an agony of 
fear and repulsion. All the pleasant qualities of her 
lethargy departed in the smallest fragment of a sec- 
ond. In their place remained a terrible sensation of 
dread. But horror-struck and terrified as she was 
the strength did not come back to her limbs, and her 
sinews still refused to do their office. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


97 


She would have given ten years of her life, then 
and there, to have possessed the power which could 
break the charm that bound her. But it was impos- 
sible. She might as well have tried to overturn a 
mountain. There, helpless as an infant, yet with 
the full knowledge of her own strength, she half 
reclined, gazing into her lap with blanched fa£e and 
parted lips. Her eyes were riveted with a stony 
glare upon an object which, under like conditions, 
would have stricken terror to the soul of the bravest 
person — man or woman. A huge rattlesnake was 
coiled there, with his bead-like eyes watching and 
gloating over her every attempt to move in resist- 
ance to his power ! 

The flat head of the hideous reptile was slightly 
raised, and his forked tongue darted out like oft re- 
peated black flashes of lightning against a yellow 
background. The horror on Esther’s face deepened 
into the most painful expression. Every lineament 
was drawn and disfigured by more than bodily 
agony. The snake raised his ugly head still more, 
and his wicked eyes twinkled like two pin-heads, 
heated to the highest point. They glowed with veno- 
mous light, and lured his victim closer and closer. 

What words can describe the loathing in Esther’s 
heart at that awful moment? What pen can picture 
the despairing helplessness which wound about her 
like a black shroud of somber import? Alas, none! 
The air seemed full of fine black particles, which, 
coming together in friction, produced soft music, 
rendering the charm which enthralled her every 
faculty a thousand times harder to break. She felt 
a weight of depression upon her chest— a sudden 
chill which drove back the blood from her limbs, 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


leaving them cold and clammy, "as if touched by the 
damp hand of death. 

The coils of the mottled serpent unwound more 
and more, and he drew a trifle nearer, until she al- 
most felt his breath upon her cheek. His tail began 
to oscillate to and fro with a smooth, wavy motion. 
The sharp click of his rattle fell upon her ear. 

It was like a knell of approaching doom. She knew 
that the rattlesnake never struck until after he had 
sounded his warning, and she knew that the rattle 
was a sure precursor of the fatal blow. 

By a mighty effort she forced her eyes together, 
and in that condition, with her brain whirling in an 
indescribable eddy of despair, she awaited her death. 

The poisonous stroke did not fall. Why was the 
delay? In her hopeless agony she asked herself the 
question half petulanty. Then she opened her eyes. 
The snake was still there, but his orbs were no 
longer fixed on hers. His head was turned to one 
side, and his eyes glared with redoubled brilliancy. 
A greenish froth had gathered about his mouth, and 
he was lashing the air with his tail, clicking his rat- 
tles in the wildest rage. 

Esther’s strength began to come back as soon as 
the eyes of the serpent were recalled from her. He 
was moving away, and his slimy form slipped slowly 
off from her body. Then new sounds fell upon Es- 
ther’s hearing. They were sharp, cat-like snarls. 
Her eyes wandered slowly in the direction of the 
noises, and she saw that a new actor had appeared 
upon the scene. 

It was Vixen. 

Dancing about, just out of the reach of the huge 
snake, showing her formidable teeth and “spitting” 
with apparent rage, as all cats do, the noble animal 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


99 


was enticing the reptile-away from Esther’s pros- 
trate form. 

Vixen would bound forward almost within reach 
of her hissing, rattling enemy, making a feint as if 
about to attack the crawling, repulsive thing, and 
then spring backward just in time to avoid the mur- 
derous fangs as they descended with incalculable 
rapidity. The snake was in a wild fury of disap- 
pointment, and soon forgot all about his former 
prey. He followed the retreating form of the wild- 
cat, without turning one way or the other, and bent 
only upon revenge. 

The subtle influence removed, Esther soon regained 
control of her limbs. She was a courageous girl, as 
I have already intimated, and no sooner was she 
fairly herself again than she resolved to put an end 
to the snake, which had come so near depriving her 
of life. 

Many girls, under like circumstances, would have 
run ; but she was far from being like an ordinary 
young woman in this as well as other respects. 

Seizing a heavy billet of wood, she approached 
within striking distance of her enemy, who was 
fully occupied with Vixen. Then, with careful ac- 
curacy, she launched out a blow with all her force, 
the club catching the snake just behind his head, 
upon the slenderest and most delicate part of his 
body. 

The reptile coiled up in a labyrinthine knot, and 
then straightened out in the death-agony. In another 
instant Esther had dropped her weapon, and with 
Vixen folded in her warm embrace, was covering the 
intelligent animal’s face with kisses. 


100 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


CHAPTER X. 

ADVERSITY. 

Sycamore Dan stood an instant, irresolute, over 
the spot where the girls had been but a short time 
previously. He fully believed that they had fallen 
into the hands of the band of assassins who had at- 
tacked the camp. 

His first impulse was to dash out of the tent and 
attack the robbers single-handed, for the purpose of 
wresting from them the prizes they had gained. 
But his brain was too well balanced to allow him 
thus to throw away the only possible chance of 
liberating them. He saw in an instant what an ut- 
terly hopeless task such a one would be, and he cast 
quickly about for some substitute. Now, if Ryan 
were only there 

Ah ! the very idea. He remembered that the scout 
had told him, when the tide was turning against 
them, to go as soon as possible after the fight to a 
spot which he indicated. There the partners would 
meet. 

That seemed to be the most feasible plan, and 
Dan lost no time in adopting it. Bending over so as 
to avoid attracting attention, he glided out of the 
tent, and was soon traveling at a quick gait away 
to the northward. 

Ryan’s directions, he remembered, were to go as 
fast as possible directly to the northward for a dis- 
tance of about five miles. Having done that, he was 
to stop and give a signal, which should be an imita- 


THE PIUHIIE DETECTIVE. 


101 


tion of the cry of a crow. In answer to this would 
be heard the howl of a coyote, by which he could 
tell with tolerable accuracy the whereabouts of his 
partner. By repeating the signal from time to time 
and listening for a response, he could easily trace 
him to his waiting-place. 

The detective covered the ground as rapidly as 
possible, not stopping to wonder if he was going the 
right road, but, pushing straight ahead, with his 
eyes fixed on the north star, and all his thoughts 
bent on the problem o^ how to recover the lost girls 
from the hands of their supposed captors. 

For about an hour he traveled without an in- 
stant’s cessation. At the end of that time, having 
satisfied himself that he had gone about as far as 
Ryan had directed, he stopped and gave the signal 
which had been agreed upon. 

The answer came promptly, and close at hand. 
In five minutes he was with Ryan and Robinson, 
whose presence was soon explained. 

The ex-Bloodsucker came forward at once, and 
stood in an attitude of humiliaton before the de- 
tective. 

“Well, my man,” said Dan, quietly, “what do you 
want to say?” 

The fellow stood silent a moment before replying. 

At length he spoke. 

“I hardly know,” he said. “The truth is, that I 
have done you a mighty mean action, and if you 
did what you ought, you would kill me in my tracks. 
But I can only repair the wrong I have done by 
making myself your servant through life. I don’t 
ask you to trust me— Heaven knows I don’t deserve 
it. I only say give me a chance to retrieve as best I 
may the greatest wrong of my life. And if I do an 


102 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


act that leads you to think I am playing false, do not 
hesitate an instant, but shoot me down as you would 
shoot a dog.” 

Robinson spoke with earnestness, and in a tone 
which left little room to doubt that he was wholly 
sincere. The detective’s experience had fitted him 
to judge with considerable accuracy of the motives 
of those who talked to him. 

When the man ceased speaking, Dan, who had 
been regarding him intently, held out his hand, and 
replied : 

‘Til believe what you say, Jack Robinson; and if\ 
you keep your promise, you have my word that you 
shall not go unrewarded. There’s my hand on it.” 

Robinson seized the outstretched token of friend- 
ship and confidence, and would have pressed it to his 
lips had the detective not prevented him. 

The three then sat down to discuss their plans. It 
was nearly daylight now, but they did not fear sur- 
prise, because the spot in which they were hidden 
was so secluded that only one thoroughly acquainted 
with the locality could have found them out. 

“Wall,” said Ryan, drawing a long whiff upon his 
pipe, “what’s to be did? It’s high time we was 
a-movin’, ef we’re goin’ to do anything to-day.” 

The others sat still a moment. Sycamore Dan, 
though well up in the profession of tracking fugi- 
tives in cities, knew well enough the superiority of 
both his companions at the kind of work now before 
them. So he offered no suggestions. Robinson, 
owing to his peculiar position, did not feel justified 
in making any remarks, and therefore the whole 
responsibility fell upon the scout. 

“I hev ben a-thinkin’,” he said, after a few mo- 
ments of abstraction, “thet we orto know jest whar 


THE PBAIKIE DETECTIVE. 


103 


the gals hez gone. Tharfore I’d siggist tliet Mister 
Robinson go an’ make a circle ’round whar we was 
camped last night, and look at the trails leadin’ in 
all directions. Ef he sees anythin’ o’ impottuns let 
him come back hyar an’ report. We’ll wait fer him.” 

Robinson did not demur at the task, but was soon 
gone, moving away with the stillness of one fully ac- 
customed to the ways of people on the border. Dan 
and Ryan were both satisfied that he would not turn 
traitor, and so passed no comments upon his acces- 
sion to their forces. Both saw that he would be a 
powerful ally in the work they had to do, and were 
willing to take the chances on his fealty. 

In a very few moments after his departure both 
were sound asleep — for they knew that, in order to 
perform the task that lay before them they must hus- 
band their strength. They were thoroughly tired 
out by the exertions of the previous night, and slept 
soundly. 

But they were not so deeply buried in slumber that 
they did not awaken suddenly when they found six 
or eight men upon their recumbent forms holding 
them down. 

Almost before their eyes were fairly open they 
were bound hand and foot. The first person who met 
their startled gaze, when their captors withdrew a 
step or two, was Dick Hatfield. That worthy was 
smiling with delight. 

“Morning, boys!” was his salutation, delivered 
with a curling lip. 

Neither of the prisoners vouchsafed any reply. 

“Well, my fine fellows, you were going to kill me, 
were you? 

“Never count your chickens until they are hatched. 
Just now,” he continued, “I have got the best of the 


104 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


argument, and I don’t propose to give up the advan- 
tage.” 

“Wal,” growled Ryan, “what are ye goin’ to do 
about it?” 

“I’ll show you,” responded the villain, with a 
wicked leer. '“Men, tie this fellow to yonder tree.” 

It was soon done. 



“WAL,” GROWLED RYAN, “WHAT ARE YE GOIN’ TO 
DO ABOUT IT?” 

“Row tie this other chap to that one,” pointing it 
out as he spoke. “Row gag them.” 

Heavy bandages were bound firmly over their 
mouths, and Hatfield’s party prepared to mount their 
horses. When all was ready the dark-skinned 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


105 


reprobate walked over to a position between the two 
prisoners and spoke. 

“Posey Ryan/’ he said, “your race is run. You 
are in a place now where you can’t get out, work 
how you may. You played it pretty neatly on me, 
but I escaped you, and I never forget or forgive an 
injury. You will stay here, bound to this tree, until 
the wolves gnaw away your flesh — you will stay here 
until you starve!” 

With a bitter, mocking laugh he turned, and, 
waving his hand in a parting salute, led his men 
away. 

Starve ! How dismal and dreary was that word ! 
How terrible it sounded there in the great solitude. 

The two captives, bound hand and foot, looked 
into each other’s eyes. What did they read there? 
ISTothing but despair. Their fates were staring them 
in the face. 

Starve! Did either of them know the fearful 
meaning of that little word, which kept repeating it- 
self in their ears? 

Yes; for they shuddered in blank dismay at the 
prospect of horrible suffering which opened before 
them. They could see nothing ahead but darkness, 
agony, and death. 


106 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


CHAPTER XI. 

ESTHER’S NARROW" ESCAPE. 

Robinson went at once, without any hesitation, to 
the spot where the hunters’ camp had been the pre- 
vious night. The place was deserted, and he had lit- 
tle difficulty in making a circle around it, examin- 
ing all trails leading off in different directions. He 
discovered the place where the Bloodsuckers had 
branched off, traveling away to the westward, and 
after searching carefully the foot-prints, he saw 
that there were two horses with them which did not 
belong to the regular band. He was enabled to 
reach this conclusion by a very simple method. 

The animals used by Persimmon Bill’s band be- 
longed to a peculiar breed, known as Texan mus- 
tangs. Their hoofs were small and of peculiar for- 
mation. All the other horses in the region, or a 
majority of them at least, were broncos, or cross- 
breeds, half American stock, and half Indian ponies. 
Their feet were full and round, showing on the trail 
in marked contrast to the others. 

Having satisfied himself on that score, the ex-rob- 
ber continued his search. He had completed a wide 
semicircle to the southward, when his eyes fell 
upon the tracks made by Esther in her hasty flight. 
He scanned her foot-prints closely, and soon became 
certain that she had made her escape alone. The 
only track that had been imprinted upon the ground 
since hers was that left by Vixen. 

He was puzzled for a few minutes by this strange 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


107 


mark, but finally recalled the fact that a wild-cat 
which accompanied Ryan had once chased him as 
far as the edge of the Smoky, and he needed no fur- 
ther assurance as to why the tracks were there. 

Continuing his search he found the trail where he 
had made his exit from the busy scene of the night 
previous, in company with Ryan. Near it he dis- 
covered the fresh hoof-prints of half a dozen of the 
band. Half wondering if they were following his 
own tracks, he passed on, completing the circuit. 

During his journey he had been careful not to at- 
tract the attention of any one who might be hang- 
ing about the place, and at the same time had kept 
watch for any indications of life. His lookout was 
unrewarded by any signs, however, and he became 
convinced that the spot was deserted. 

Not more than half satisfied with his work, and 
trying in vain to solve the mystery of the half-breed 
horses which accompanied his former associates 
upon their retreat, he stole cautiously to the spot 
where the camp had been. He remembered per- 
fectly where the tent containing the girls stood, and 
he made a straight line toward it after having as- 
certained beyond all doubt that he was alone. 

Close beside the door- way he found tracks leading 
to the place where they had been separated. There 
he saw the trail left by Esther, and in the broken 
ground where Harper had made his desperate fight 
for liberty, the searcher could detect occasionally the 
tiny foot-prints left by Marian. These he succeeded 
in tracing to a spot where the strange horses had 
been brought. There the delicate tracks were lost 
sight of. That solved the mystery. 

“On% of the girls has been caught and one has es- 
caped,” he said, “I wonder which one it was. 


108 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


Heaven help her, wherever she may be and keep 
her out of the hands of that arch villain, Persimmon 
Bill.” 

Robinson looked about him. On all sides were the 
evidences of the terrible battle which had been 
waged a few hours ago. Men in all attitudes which 
the anguish of death could dictate, lay prone upon 
the upturned turf. Moving about among them he 
recognized many of his old comrades, and he was 
not altogether displeased at the sight. The mag- 
nanimity of Posey Ryan, compared with the selfish 
coldness of his old boon companion, Hatfield, had 
completely won him over from his evil associates, 
and bound him in firm chains of friendship to the 
avengers who were on the trail of the robbers. 

Robinson perceived with surprise that the Blood- 
suckers had carried away but little of the plunder 
with which the hunters had been heavily stocked. 
He could not account for that on any other theory 
than that the chief had only intended to take the 
girls, and wished to make a hasty retreat so as to 
avoid being hampered by useless weight. The con- 
verted villain was standing there thinking, in a vein 
that was half moralizing, when he was awakened 
from his reverie by a slight sound behind him. He 
turned quickly on his heel* and brought his rifle to 
the full cock, half expecting to meet the gaze of 
some enemy lowering upon him. 

What was his surprise to see, standing not a rod 
away, his old enemy, Vixen, gazing at him with a 
look that was half-doubtful, half-questioning? 

A slight sensation of uneasiness passed over him 
as he recalled the last occasion upon which they 
met, but as she showed no intention of reopening 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


109 


hostilities, he was speedily reassured as to her inten- 
tions. 

She looked him over carefully from head to foot, 
and then, apparently satisfied with the result of her 
investigation, she came trotting up to him, and 
seizing the hem of his pantaloons in her teeth, 
tugged with all her strength. 

■‘Well,” exclaimed Robinson, in puzzled tones. 
“What on earth does that mean?” 

Vixen evidently understood his . inability to com- 
prehend her meaning, for she immediately desisted 
from her unintelligible attempts, and running off a 
few steps in the direction in which the trail taken by 
Esther led, she raised her muzzle in the air, and 
whined piteously. This performance she repeated 
two or three times, occasionally stopping and look- 
ing him in the face with an expression which seemed 
to say : 

“You are very stupid ; will you never understand?” 

“Is she trying to make me follow her?” asked 
Robinson, half aloud. “I have heard of cases where 
animals have done such things. 

“I believe I’ll try her, anyhow, and see if she knows 
what she is about.” 

As soon as he started toward the place where she 
stood, Vixen sprang into the air, giving every in- 
dication of joy, and then started away rapidly upon 
the trail, stopping every moment to see if Robinson 
was following. 

He went on far enough to see that he had rightly 
understood her purpose, and then stopped an instant 
in hesitation. 

Clearly, he ought to go on, to the rescue of the girl, 
who might be alone and unprotected from many sur- 
rounding evils. But if he undertook that journey, 


110 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


which would in all probability detain him several 
hours, what would Ryan and Dan think had become 
of him? 

He remembered that he was on probation with 
them, and a prolonged absence might lead them to 
the supposition that he had deserted them. He had 
already spent fully four hours away from the camp, 
and any further delay might provoke hard feelings 
against him. Still, if he put off this opportunity he 
might lose forever the chance to save her ; for, while 
he was going back to his companions, the robbers, 
equally intent upon finding her, might head him off 
successfully. 

Robinson’s hesitation was but momentary. The 
danger to which the young woman was exposed, 
overbalanced every other emotion in his mind, and 
he pushed rapidly forward giving no further thought 
to the friends he had left behind. 

As soon as Vixen had become convinced that he 
was fairly upon the trail, with the intention of fol- 
lowing it to the end, she gave him a reassuring look, 
and then started ahead with renewed speed. 

He followed as fast as he could, but the animal 
gained upon him at every step, and was soon out of 
sight. Still he did not give up the pursuit. In fact 
he hurried on faster than before, because he thought 
he recognized in her haste an indication that he, too, 
ought to get along as rapidly as possible. 

In about an hour and a half he dashed through 
the trees into a little opening in the forest, just in 
time to find Esther with her arms about the faithful 
wild-cat, close beside the spot where the snake was 
writhing in the last throes of dissolution. 

When her eyes first met his, she was frightened 
more than she had been before, if possible. She 


THE PRAIElE DETECTIVE. Ill 

imagined, of course, that Robinson had escaped dur- 
ing the fight of the night previous, and had tracked 
her down for the purpose of handing her over to the 
tender graces of Persimmon Bill. 

But the man soon explained the position in which 
he stood, and the apparent understanding which ex- 
isted between himself and Vixen helped to convince 
Esther that he spoke the truth. 

It was now nearly twelve o’clock, and neither of 
them had tasted food since the night previous. 

Fortunately Robinson had in his pocket some bits 
of jerked venison, and on this they breakfasted fru- 
gally before starting on their return journey. 

When they had finished their meal they looked 
about them for Vixen. She was nowhere to be seen. 
Both were astonished at the discovery of her ab- 
sence, but soon reassured themselves by finding 
that her tracks led back over the trail they had 
come over. 

The pair now started to return toward the place 
where Ryan and Sycamore Dan had been left. They 
followed the old trail some distance, when a new 
thought seemed to strike Robinson, who branched 
off suddenly to the right, bidding Esther follow him. 
She did so obediently, but soon asked an explanation 
of this new freak. Her conductor turned to her with 
a knowing look upon his face. 

“You probably noticed, as we came along,” he 
said, “that the ground was soft, and that we left a 
very plain trail behind us?” 

“Yes. What of it?” 

“Well, we are now working to higher ground. 
After a few more paces we shall be on a stony ledge 
where we shall leave no signs. Then we shall 
double on our pursuers, should any of the band fol- 


112 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


low us, and thus delay them, even if we do not / 
throw them completely off the scent. ” / 

Esther saw at once the wisdom of the plan, and 
so gave up arguing the question with him. But as 
they passed along she asked about her father and 
sister, and also about Ryan and Dan. These inqui- 
ries he answered to the best of his ability, going so 
far as to give a very clear description of the spot 
where the two partners were awaiting them. 

He had no especial reason for so doing, but it 
proved to be one of the most fortunate circumstances 
of his life ; for the details had scarcely left his lips 
when a series of incidents occurred which came near 
putting an end to all their plans. 

Robinson and his fair charge were just ascending 
over a little knoll of limestone, beyond which the 
same formation existed for a full mile, and then 
came to a sudden end upon the brink of a shallow 
rivulet. 

The guide chanced, when near the brow of the 
slight eminence, to glance down into the valley 
which stretched along a few hundred yards away, 
and almost directly parallel with the course they 
were following. 

His eye swept up and down the narrow depression, 
and then came to a sudden halt. He started vio- 
lently, and then fell flat upon the ground, motioning 
Esther to follow suit. She lost no time in doing so, 
because she had learned to place implicit confidence 
in him. 

After lying for a moment, Robinson raised his 
head, and peered cautiously about him. His gaze 
was met by three or four figures, moving noise- 
lessly along over the trail lately traversed by him- 
self, leading from the camp to the spot where he had 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


113 


found Esther. He had little difficulty in recognizing 
Dick Hatfield and a number of the Bloodsuckers. 
Their errand he divined at once. 

They were searching for Esther Harper. 

Their leader had dismounted from his horse, and 
was leading the animal by his bridle, while the rest 
of his companions followed on behind at a slow 
space. Robinson’s rifle came to his shoulder in an 
instant, and covered his dusky skinned enemy. 
Hatred flashed from his eyes, and he looked as if 
bound to take revenge for his past grievances. 

But just in time he checked himself. He could not 
hope to conquer the whole' number, and to thus ex- 
pose the whereabouts of himself and Esther would 
be madness. 

Yet something must be done, and that at once. 
He had not much time to lose. The pursuers would 
follow the old trail along to the point where the sec- 
ond one branched off, and there would be but a few 
moments of intervening time before they would be 
on the spot where the fugitives now stood. Resist- 
ance against such odds would be worse than useless. 
He must pit his strategy against the superior physi- 
cal force of his enemies. Robinson looked about 
him. By the merest chance his eyes fell upon the 
upright trunk of a huge tree. Near the roots was a 
large fissure, which suggested the presence of a 
roomy cavity above. Glancing again in the direction 
taken by the Bloodsuckers, he saw that they had 
disappeared around a point of wooded land. Spring- 
ing to his feet, he directed Esther to enter the open- 
ing at the foot of the tree. • 

“When those fiends are gone,” he added, “come 
out and make the best of your way around to where 
Ryan and Sycamore Dan are even now awaiting my 


114 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


coming. I may have to accompany these scoundrels 
away ; but I will escape from their clutches just as 
soon as there is an opportunity, and will then return 
to my friends. I may get information that is worth 
having, by appearing to join their forces again. 
There — that’s right. Stay where you are, and keep 
perfectly still.” 

“But if I am discovered ” 

“You will not be. But- should any accident befall 
you, use this pistol. It may be of service to you.” 

By the time he had finished talking Esther was 
safely ensconced in the hollow trunk of the tree, 
1 where there was an abundance of room for her form. 

As soon as she was safely inside, Robinson pro- 
cured a heap of dry bushes and threw them upon 
the ground where she had disappeared. Then he sat 
down to wait for the coming of Hatfield’s gang. 

He was not kept long in suspense. 

The regular tramp of the horses’ feet soon fell 
upon his ear. His hand wandered mechanically to 
his rifle, and he was half tempted, even at that late 
hour, to have his revenge on Hatfield, and then fight 
it out with the rest of them. A happy thought 
flashed upon him. 

“By George, I’ll do it!” he exclaimed to himself. 
“I won’t kill him, but I’ll give him a dig that he 
won’t forget for one or two months. 

And Robinson fairly laughed at the idea which 
had presented itself to him. He cocked his rifle and 
brought it to his shoulder, glancing along the barrel 
and chuckling at the thought that he was going to 
“get even” with Hatfield for deserting him in the 
hunters’ camp. 

At the same instant the head of the sub-chief of 
the Bloodsuckers came in sight down the incline, not 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE.. 


115 


much more than a hundred yards away. Robinson 
was lying flat upon the ground, and therefore was 
hidden from sight. Hatfield was leading his horse, 
and examining the trail as he came along. As he 
approached, his form became more easily dis- 
tinguishable above the chaparral. The upper part 
of his body was soon easily discernible, and Robin- 
son took deliberate aim at the extreme edge of the 
robber’s right shoulder. Then, as the exultant grin 
deepened upon his face, he calmly pressed his fore- 
finger to the trigger, and as the "effect of his shot 
was seen, he rolled over on his back in a paroxysm 
of mirth. 

The bullet went straight to its mark. Hatfield was, 
of course, taken completely by surprise. He stag- 
gered back a step or two, and then fell heavily upon 
his side. 

His companions rushed eagerly forward, expecting 
to meet a foe. They had not gone many paces when 
they came face to face with Robinson himself, who, 
with an artfully simulated expression of concern, 
rose and came out to meet them, protesting loqua- 
ciously his innocence of any intention of harm. 

“Why, boys,” he ejaculated, in surprised tones; 
“is it you? I heard your horses come pounding along 
up the hill, and thought you were some of those in- 
fernal hunters tracking me down. But I hope I 
didn’t hurt anybody.” 

“I dunno,” responded one of the men. •‘'"Mister 
Hatfield is on his back down yonder, an’ I’m a leetle 
onsartin as to how he is jest now. But what in thun- 
der are ye doin’ roun’ yere?” 

“I was hunting for a young woman, about whom 
the chief has made all this disturbance. However, 


116 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


we will talk of that another time. Let us return to 
Hatfield at once. He may need our aid.” 

They found the robber lying where he had fallen, 
loading the air with horrible imprecations. 

As soon as he learned that Robinson had caused 
his wound, he was wild with rage. 

“Accident!” he exclaimed, bitterly. “You’re a 
liar ! You did it on purpose !” 

“S-s-s-h!” responded Robinson, with a deprecating 
gesture. “You horrify me by such base suspicions. 
Be calm, and let me dress your wound.” 

He lifted the bleeding villain into a half -upright 
position, and then, with fingers not the gentlest in 
the world, proceeded to bind up his wound. Once, 
when no one was looking, he stooped over so his lips 
were close to Hatfield’s ear, and murmured : 

“Think you’ll go away and leave me to be mur- 
dered next time?” 

The reply to this taunting speech was a terrible 
oath, which was overheard by one of the men. The 
entire party more than suspected their former associ- 
ate of having been fully aware as to where his rifle 
was aimed when he fired the shot which was so 
painful to their present companion. But they had 
no very violent affection for Hatfield, and so felt no 
disposition to quarrel with the man they liked far 
the better of the two. 

While Robinson was busying himself with dressing 
the dusky robber’s wound— incidentally causing him 
as much pain as possible — the other Bloodsuckers 
were searching for the trail of Esther. As her guide 
had foretold, the instant they struck the limestone 
ledge they lost every trace. 

They searched in all directions, but were utterly 
nonplused. If she had vanished into the air, they 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


117 


oould not have been taken more aback. Robinson 
soon learned that just prior to his departure froih 
the scene of victory, Persimmon Bill had dispatched 
Hatfield and the men who were with him, charging 
them to recover Esther at any cost. His own retreat 
had been hurried by the discovery that but few of 
the hunters were killed. He knew their tenacious 
dispositions, and surmised that they would concen- 
trate their forces at once, and prepare to attack him 
again. He had no wish to meet them without his 
usual advantage, and determined that he would 
make a wide detour and throw them off the track. 

In return for this information the ex-Bloodsucker 
assured the party that he had discovered Esther’s 
trail, and knowing his chief’s eagerness to consum- 
mate her capture, had taken upon himself the task 
of catching her. He had followed her as they had 
until he struck the limestone ridge. That had baffled 
him as completely as it had themselves. 

The men believed him implicitly, and were glad 
to have him once more one of their number. 

As soon as Hatfield could be moved, they placed 
him again upon his horse, and then the party pushed 
ahead across the belt of rock, soon reaching the pre- 
cipitous spot at the bank of the little rivulet spoken 
of before. At that point they halted in uncertainty, 
gazing about utterly bewildered. At no point could 
they find any token which seemed to indicate that 
the person they were seeking had gone that way. 

“It is my opinion,” volunteered Robinson, who 
was, of course, deeply interested in leading them as 
far away from the correct spot as possible ; “it is my 
opinion that she has taken to the stream, in order to 
baffle us. By George, boys, she’s a smalt one!” 

Nearly all his companions were inclined to the 


118 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


samebelief. They would not have readily admitted 
that any woman could have the cunning to adopt 
such skillful measures, had they not already experi- 
enced an evidence of it in the readiness with which 
she had led them to the limestone ledge. 

It was not a solace to their wounded feelings to 
know that they had been baffled by a woman. But 
there was no help for it, and their only chance of 
getting even with her at last was to follow on down 
the bank of the creek, keeping their eyes open for 
the place where she should have left the water. 

Nothing they might have^decided upon would have 
given Robinson better satisfaction, and it was with a 
light heart and an elastic step that he led the way 
upon this new departure. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


119 


CHAPTER XII. 

ESTHER’S JOURNEY. 

Esther remained in her narrow compartment until 
some time after the last sounds died away in the dis- 
tance. She was far from comfortable ip the confined 
space, hut she reflected that the alternative of three 
or four hours amid uneasy surroundings, was far 
preferable to the misery which was implied by possi- 
ble capture by her blood-thirsty lover, and so man- 
aged to bear her load with brave patience. 

The time moved by with leaden wings. It seemed 
to her as if the instant when her persecutors should 
be out of range would never arrive. And it was 
with the sincerest thankfulness that she perceived, 
through a convenient knot-hole, the retreat of the 
pursuing band. 

But even then she remained motionless, without 
making a sound to betray her presence. She was 
determined to be on the safe side. What if they 
had forgotten something, and a member of their 
party should return just in time to discover her com- 
ing from her- hiding-place? No. She would avoid 
the possibility by remaining secreted a little while 
longer. 

But when half an hour had passed, and she had 
seen nothing to arouse her suspicions, she slipped 
softly down to the bush-covered aperture, and push- 
ing aside the boughs which had been placed there to 
hide the opening, crept out into the daylight. 

Everything was quiet on all sides. Not a branch 


120 


THE PllAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


quivered to indicate life. All nature was as quiet as 
if wrapped in slumber. 

Esther stole quietly over to the bank of the stream 
and looked in all directions, as if half expecting that 
every bush and tree hid a lurking foe. She had not 
realized before what a terrible thing it was to be 
alone and unprotected in the midst of a wilderness 
filled with savage Indians and unprincipled white 
men. In the presence of Robinson, when once as- 
ured that he meant no mischief, she had not known 
what fear was. But when the force of circumstances 
deprived her of his company, she realized at once the 
full loneliness of her condition. 

Esther Harper was no coward, and she did not 
quail or cringe before the dark prospect which con- 
fronted her. But, brave and self-reliant as she was, 
she could not altogether stay the misgivings which 
gnawed at her heart. 

She lost no time, however, in useless reflections, 
but pushed ahead without hesitation. It was already 
past three in the afternoon, and she knew that the 
journey before her was long and arduous. 

Fixing her course due north— having determined 
the right direction by the position of the sun— she 
started as rapidly as possible toward her destination. 

She walked with such good effect that at about 
half -past five o’clock she came in sight of the spot 
whence she had fled in such precipitate haste the 
previous night. She shuddered at the thought of 
passing over the field of battle and looking upon 
those who had fallen in death. The thought was 
terrible to her, and, wishing to avoid the sickening 
sight, she took a wide circle to the left, thus skirting 
the dreaded place. 

This maneuver cost her extra exertion and 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


121 


some time, but she felt repaid when she found her- 
self once more on a strange road to the northward. 

About this time, too, she began to be assailed by 
the qualms of hunger. Fortunately, Robinson had, 
in parting, given her all that was left of the jerked 
venison, and this she lunched upon as she walked 
along. 

At different points in her journey she recognized 
landmarks described to her by Robinson, and was 
thus enabled to assure herself that she was on the 
right road. 

She struggled bravely ahead, although deeply 
fatigued by the trying events of the past twenty- 
four hours. And it was at this time that a new ele- 
ment presented itself against her. Darkness was 
coming on, and rapidly. 

What should she do in such a predicament? 
Traveling over a country that was entirely un- 
known to her, excepting through the description of 
a second person, how could she expect to find her 
way? 

True, she could determine pretty accurately the 
distance she had traveled by the time occupied ; but 
by what means could she be sure that she did not 
vary to the right nor to the left? 

But she was one of those determined persons who, 
whether for right or wrong, make up their minds 
quickly and then go ahead ; and she lost not an in- 
stant in bringing herself to the conclusion that the 
best course was to push right forward and take the 
chances of going so near the camp occupied by Ryan 
and his partner that they might hear and hail her. 

Therefore, having made up her mind to that, she 
passed on without hesitation. In about an hour she 
felt satisfied that she had traveled pretty nearly the 


122 


THE PEAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


distance planned. Then she found it necessary to 
adopt new tactics. She would advance a few paces 
and then halt to listen. 

Unfortunately, it was the wrong part of the month 
for the moon, else she would have experienced little 
difficulty in picking out her course. But she per- 
severed with tenacity, and would not be discouraged 
by the dull prospect. Each moment it became less" 
promising, and each moment her heart sank lower 
by almost imperceptible degrees, until she was well- 
nigh despairing. 

Many times she went ahead, and many times she 
halted, expecting to hear some sign. But she was 
disappointed at every succeeding turn. 

What if, after all, she should miss the friends she 
sought? What would become of her then? Fort Hays 
was a long distance off, and she would have great 
difficulty in reaching it, even under the most favor- 
able circumstances. In her present plight the task 
seemed impossible, and as the time passed without 
any apparent hope of finding those for whom she 
was searching, her lot seemed indeed pitiful. She 
trembled at the thought of what might possibly be- 
fall her, and a cold, settled despair crept upon her 
as she contemplated the unpleasant picture. 

Hark! what was that? 

She stopped to listen. Surely her ears had not de- 
ceived her. Ho, for there it was again, close at hand 
—the sharp, familiar voice of Vixen nailing to her 
through the night ! 

With a glad cry of welcome, she bounded quickly 
forward to greet with cordial embrace her old and 
cherished friend. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


123 


CHAPTER XIII. 

A DARK DAY FOR THE PARTNERS. 

In the dim gray light of the morning Ryan and 
Dan looked at each other in despair. For a few mo- 
ments they could see no outlet from the trap in 
which they were caught. Each had been more or 
less confused by the sudden awakening from peace- 
ful slumber, and neither fully recovered the perfect 
use of his faculties until after the Bloodsuckers left. 

Then as their minds drifted over the other events 
connected with the imprisonment, little rays of hope 
began to burst through the thick clouds, and they 
could see faint chances for deliverance. 

As is frequently the case with men who have been 
associated with each other for any length of time, 
their thoughts ran in the same identical channel, 
and followed each other closely. Of course they could 
not communicate with each other, even by facial 
expressions. The broad bandages in which their 
mouths were swathed to prevent them from attract- 
ing possible aid, also served the purpose of checking 
any contortions of the muscles. 

Sycamore Dan was bound with such exceeding 
firmness that he could not move a solitary muscle; 
and both men, as they stood with such enforced 
erectness against the trees, presented a spectacle 
that was at once grotesque nnd painful. 

Ryan had a slight advantage over his companion, 
for one of the thongs binding his ankles had become 
loosened a trifle, so that by the exercise of his great 


124 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


strength he soon succeeded in getting one foot en- 
tirely free. 

But that was not of much material aid to him in 
conveying his thoughts to his partner, although he 
certainly did find that it gave him relief in standing, 
because he was no longer confined to any one par- 
ticular attitude. 

I have intimated that after the first few moments 
of their captivity, their spirits began to rise, almost 
simultaneously. 

Both were thinking of Robinson. 

Why, of course ! How ridiculous it was to suppose 
that he would not soon come back and release them. 
And how fortunate they had been to form an alli- 
ance with him as they did? How very foolish it was 
for them to give themselves a single moment of un- 
easiness about their prospects. True, the position in 
which they stood was rapidly becoming irksome — 
but then, the time would not be long before they 
would again be free. 

Their eyes met for the second time ; and though 
debarred from elaborate communication, neither of 
them found it very difficult to read an easier and 
pleasanter expression in his partner’s orbs. 

But as an hour dragged slowly by, and then 
another, their hopes grew less radiant, and their con- 
fidence less perfect. Why did not Robinson come to 
their rescue? Could it be possible that he had repaid 
their kindness by such baseness? Yes, it certainly 
had that look. As Ryan dwelt upon the series of 
incidents just past, he reproached himself bitterly 
for having allowed a notorious villain to hoodwink 
him in that fashion. 

At that moment he would have given almost any- 
thing he possessed for the power of speech, in order 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


125 


that he might upbraid his own foolishness verbally. 
But, if he could not speak aloud, he could think — 
and think he did. The tenor of his reflections was 
like this : 

“Dern my ugly mug! Posey Ryan, ye’re the 
doggonedest, blamebest id- jit I ever seen ! Fire an’ 
brimstun ! Ef ever ye git outen this scrape, ye’d 
better go off summers, into some quiet locallerty, 
an’ soak that wooden head o’ yourn fer the rest o’ 
yer nat’ral an’ onnat’ral days. The idee o’ bein’ 
picked up fer a flat, by sich a lop-eared, bow-legged 
duffer ezsthet Jack Robinson! 

“H’mph! Ye desarve to starve. In course he’d 
go back onte ye — any dern fool could hev told ye so. 
Why, jest ez soorf ez ye let him outen yer sight, in 
course he went an’ hunted up his pardners, an’ 
brought ’em right hyar, so’s they could scoop ye in. 
Tarantalers an’ bull-dogs ! but ye are a green one — 
blamed ef ye ain’t, Posey!” 

Having delivered himself of this mental self- 
scorching, Ryan set about trying to devise some plan 
of escape. But that was useless, and he soon gave 
it up in disgust. 

Sycamore Dan’s thoughts were of the same order, 
but instead of blaming Ryan, he laid all the oppro- 
brium upon himself for not having taken Robinson at 
his word, and sent an ounce of lead through him 
that morning. 

But self -accusations were useless, and they soon 
had other matters to think about; for, as the day 
progressed they became both hungry and thirsty. 
No one not forcibly deprived of food and drink can 
for a moment appreciate the awful agony of the trial 
they underwent. 

And then, as if this were not enough, they suf- 


126 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


fered intensely from the thongs which bound them. 
The slender strips of hide cut into their flesh cruelly, 
and every moment caused their wrists and ankles 
to swell more and more, so that the pain grew in- 
tense to a fearful extent. 

But I shall not attempt to describe the horrors of 
that day — they may be imagined, but not put upon 
paper. It is impossible to conjure up language 
fitting to the occasion. 

It was long after noon when Vixen trotted in be- 
tween the two. She stood for a moment, looking at 
one and then the other in a knowing way, and after 
satisfying herself of the condition of affairs, she sat 
down and gazred calmly at her master. 

“She’s a-laffin’ at me, I b’leve,” reflected Ryan. 

“Consarn her! why didn’t she come hyar in time 
to post us, so’s we’d hev got away from the devils?’ 

But his thoughts did not trouble Vixen. After 
gazing fixedly at him for an hour or more, she 
trotted to his feet and curled herself up to sleep ; 
and there she lay all the afternoon, not moving or 
showing any signs of life. 

At length, after what seemed an interminable 
space of weariness, darkness fell. The two friends 
had been tied to their posts for fourteen hours ! How 
much longer must they wait for deliverance, either 
at the hands of friends, or by death? 

It was awful to think of another day like the past 
one. Heavens ! The future was unendurable. 

Wrapped in somber thoughts— with the manhood 
almost crushed out of them by the terrible weight of 
suffering — they stood, or rather hung there in the 
night, waiting, waiting, waiting. 

Without warning, as suddenly as a thunderbolt 
from out the skies, they heard the snapping of twigs ! 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


127 


In an instant they were alert and watchful. 
Some one was walking not far distant. 

Vixen had heard the sound also, and was upon 
her feet sniffing the air. 

Who could it be? Was it friend dr foe? 

In any case they must attract attention. But how? 
They were bound and gagged. Oh, bitterness! 
What a terrible position of suspense ! 

The steps came nearer, ceased an instant, and then 
went on. Good Heaven ! -The prisoners must make 
themselves known. 

Dan did not stop to listen or think. One chance 
alone seemed feasible. Vixen must tell the stranger 
ivhere they were . 

The scout lifted his foot, and kicked her heavily 
in the ribs. 

Could he have seen the reproachful look upon her 
face he would have bitterly repented that act. She 
only whined as if she was badly hurt. 

The steps receded ! 

Heaven! Liberty was slipping slowly from their 
very grasp. Would Vixen never cry out? The agony 
of the two men was awful. 

Ah! A long-drawn mournful cry of a coyote 
came over the hills ! In the smallest part of a sec- 
ond the wild-cat was alive and aggressive. That 
sound was to her a signal of danger to her master. 
Bristling with anger, she lifted her muzzle in the 
air, and gave vent to a wild, loud screech. The 
footsteps stopped instantly. Again Vixen yelled. 

Her cry was answered by a glad little feminine 
voice, exclaiming: 

“ Vixen! where are you? Come to me, come to 
me!” 

And in ten seconds Esther Harper stood in the lit- 


128 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


tie inclosure, between her captive friends, fairly 
weeping with joy. 


CHAPTER XIY. 

GETTING TO WORK. 

Esther did not waste a particle of time in setting 
her friends free. She found a knife in Ryan’s belt, 
and with its keen edge she instantly severed the 
bonds wl\ich held them. 

Their timely release had as great a pleasing effect 
upon them as their long captivity had exerted in the 
direction of depression. As soon as the cords were 
removed from Ryan’s limbs he gave a loud cheer, and 
began to do a double shuffle in defiance of the fact 
that his joints were almost as stiff as crowbars. 

The influence of the deliverance was fully as ex- 
hilarating to Sycamore Dan, but he was more sub- 
dued in his expressions of delight. 

Both men stopped only to thank Esther as briefly 
as possible for her opportune arrival, and then rushed 
headlong to the creek, where they laved their 
parched and swollen lips in the cooling water. Hav- 
ing partaken sufficiently of the liquid — sweeter than 
nectar to them— they bathed the parts which had 
been bound, and then went back to camp. 

Ryan sat down upon the ground and fell into con- 
versation with Esther, while Dan gathered fagots 
for a fire. 

“Look a-hyar!” ejaculated the scout, as his part- 
ner was about to apply a match to the heap of twigs. 
“What in thunder are ye a-doin’?” 

“Why, I’m lighting a fire so as to broil this bacon 
I have in my pocket,” responded Dan. 


THE ERAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


129 


“Thet’s dangerous work, parcl. Ye’ll be likely to 
git some attenshun ye don’t like, ef ye kieep on. 
The light o’ yer fire kin be seen miles off sich a night 
ezthis.” 

“Can’t help it,” rejoined the detective, with some 
asperity. “I have had nothing to eat since last 
night, and I’m going to break my fast now, even if 
I do have to fight for it.” 

So saying he touched a match to the dry leaves, 
and soon had several fragrant slices of bacon friz- 
zling over the little blaze. As soon as the frugal 
repast was cooked, however, the fire was extin- 
guished, for the detective, although hungry, had no 
desire to run unnecessary risk. 

The bacon was soon devoured, and the friends fell 
to talking. 

“This,” said Ryan, reflectively, “this is a day I 
sha’n’t forget very soon, doggoned ef I do.” 

“Nor I,” added Dan and Esther in the same 
breath. 

“Bekase,” continued Ryan, as if he had not heard 
what his friends said, “to-day I hev ben the dern- 
dest id- jit as ever traveled upon this earthly ' fc foot- 
stule.” 

“There’s a pair of us,” suggested the detective. 

“How so?” asked Esther, who had not yet learned 
the circumstances leading to their captivity. 

Sycamore Dan related in as few words as possible 
the story of the battle, the defeat, and his own 
search in the tent for Esther and her sister. 

“Not finding you there,” he added, “I felt con- 
fident that you must have been captured already, 
and it occurred to me that if I was going to rescue 
you from the hands of your captors the best way for 
me to do was to fight shy of that place for the pres- 


130 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


ent until I could organize a war party to pursue the 
fiends. By a previous arrangement with Ryan, I 
knew where to find him, and repaired at once to 
this spot. What was my surprise, on arriving here, 
to discover that my partner was not alone, and that 
the person who accompanied him was none other 
than Jack Robinson ?” 

“Yes,” interrupted the scout. “Thet’s the kind of 
a doggoned fool I was. Ef my head was ez solid ez 
Pike’s Peak, or ez holler as a toy balloon, I couldn’t 
hev ben a bigger ignoramus!” 

“Why do you say that?” asked Esther, in surprise. 

“Why? Well, I’ll tell you,” continued Dan, taking 
up the thread of his story again where he had 
dropped it. “This man Robinson” (a growl from 
Ryan) “promised by all that was good and great, to 
do everything in his power to repair a wrong he had 
once done me, for you must know that the wound 
upon my head that day you and I first met was 
caused by this same Jack Robinson and a friend of 
his. Well, Ryan and I were just imbecile enough to 
believe his fair words, and we sent him on an im- 
portant errand. During his absence we added to our 
foolish proceedings by calmly lying down and going 
to sleep. We were surprised in that condition, and 
placed in the plight you found us in. Of course there 
is but one solution to the mystery. 

“And that is?” 

Esther’s eyes twinkled mischievously as she asked 
the question. 

“Why, I should think a blind person could see it. 
I axes yer parding, Miss Esther,” said Ryan, apolo- 
getically. “But it is mighty evident to me an’ my 
pardner thar thet this double-dyed traitor, jest ez 
soon ez he got clear of us, went an’ gave us away to 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


iai 

his frens. He is an infernal scoundrel, thet’s what 
he is, an’ ef ever we meet again I’ll stick his hide so 
full o’ cold lead thet it’ll look like a nutmeg grate — 
I will, so help me ” 

“Stop !” exclaimed Esther, so suddenly that the 
scout did not finish his sentence, and his uplifted 
hand fell to his side. “You will do nothing of the 
sort.” 

“Won’t I? Wal, p’raps ye’ll tell me why not.” 

The scout’s tone indicated that he was annoyed at 
Esther’s interference. 

“Listen to my story, Posey Ryan, and if you still 
continue in your thirst for revenge, I shall not say 
you nay.” 

“Wal, fire away then. But I’m blamed'if I kin 
forgive a chap what plays me so low down ez this 
one hez. Great snakes ! ” 

Esther began her story, and related as briefly as 
possible the incidents of her flight, adventures, and 
final meeting with the ex-Bloodsucker. She laid 
particular stress upon the fact that his cunning had 
saved her from captivity, and pictured in glowing 
colors the meeting between Hatfield and his former 
companion. 

The partners heard her through in silence. When 
she had finished Sycamore Dan drew a long sigh of 
relief. 

“Miss Esther,” he exclaimed, heartily, “I am glad 
to hear you give this explanation. In my profession 
it is the custom to believe every man a guilty wretch 
until he is proven innocent. But your vindication of 
this fellow Robinson has been so complete that I 
cannot for a moment doubt his integrity and the 
sincerity of his professed reform.” 

Esther looked at him gratefully. 


132 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


“You are a generous man;” she observed, “even if 
you are a trifle mysterious. I like you for your kind- 
ness of heart.”" 

A great throb came in the detective’s throat. He 
felt a strange thrill of pride at receiving praise from 
that source, and yet he could not explain his enjoy- 
ment. It was something entirely new to him. Al- 
most before he had time to think he blurted out : 

“There is no one in this world, Miss Esther, from 
whom I would rather hear those words. ” 

It was an awkward compliment, but it seemed to 
give him relief. The expression was entirely spon- 
taneous, and to have checked it would have cost him 
a struggle. On the whole he was glad he had 
spoken. 

Up to this time Ryan had been entirely silent. The 
three sat so close together that they could distin- 
guish each other, dimly, through the darkness, and 
now they noticed that the scout was peering fixedly 
at the ground, as if he would read there the answer 
to some question which perplexed his mind. Dan 
and Esther sat there watching him some seconds be- 
fore speaking. Still he did not move. 

“Well, pard,” said the detective, at length, “have 
you nothing to say?” 

“Yes, I hev,” responded Ryan, after another mo- 
ment of contemplative silence. “You folks hev made 
a purty fine picter o’ this thing, but I wouldn’t be 
afraid to bet a small stake thet ye’re jest about ez 
badly sold ez ever ye was.” 

“Sold! Why, what do you mean?” 

“Wal, in course it ain’t none o’ my bizness, ef ye 
both b’leve what ye say, an’ ez majorities rule, in 
this free an’ enlightened country, why I ain’t got 
nothin’ partickler to say, beyond sijjistin’ thet ye’re 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


133 


both ’way often the track. This is the way I put it 
up : Thet chap Robinson knows purty well what kind 
of men you an’ me are, or he thinks he does. Wal, 
he went fust, an’ sent them chaps back hyar to hitch 
us up, which they did, an’ did thunderin’ well, too. 
Then arterwards he waited till they came back to 
him. By thet time he hed stumbled onto the trail o’ 
Miss Esther. When they come up to him he laid 
this plan o’ sendin’ her to us, an’ pretendin’ that it 
was to help her escape.” 

“But what could be his object? Your theory 
seems to lack an essential element.” 

“Does it? Wal, p’raps arter ye hear me through, 
ye won’t think so quite ez much ez ye do now. Ye 
must remember thet this man Robinson hez allers 
looked on ye with some suspicion. He thout in the 
fust place, thet ye was a huntin’ arter Persim Wil- 
liam, an’ no doubt he thinks thet his chief would like 
purty well to clap his peepers onto ye.” 

“If that was the case, why didn’t they take us 
prisoners, and carry us bodily to their chief?” 

“Look a hyar, Sycamore Dan ! Are you a tellin’ 
this yarn, or am I? Ef it’s you, why jest go ahead 
an’ spin it out. But ef I’m doin’ it, do for the Lord’s 
sake dry up, an’ let me finish! Wal, ez I said, he 
thout ez how Bill would like to see ye, an’ he knows 
mighty well thet I sh’d be a prize the boss would 
give a good deal to hev the whip-hand onto. Now 
when he foun’ thet he’d be able to ketch Esther, he 
thout summat like this : 

“Them men, ef we let em alone, will f oiler our 
trail, so’s to git the t’other gal back agin. They 
ain’t men thet will weaken at anythin’ under heaven. 
Ef they’ll do thet, why we kin lay a trap for ’em by 
an’ by, an’ they’ll be dead sure to walk into it 


134 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


’thout givin’ us any trouble at all ; whereas, ef we 
was to try the dodge o’ carryin’ them bodily, they’d 
be mighty likely to get away and make it allfired 
hot for us. 

“Thet is why Robinson went ahead o’ the others, 
an’ thet is why he done all thet fine actin’ fer the 
benefit o’ Miss Esther. You mark my words, pard- 
ner, when we start on this trail we are dead sure to 
tumble into some mighty cunnin’ pitfall, onless we 
keep our peepers peeled. D’ye think my theo-rye is 
so denied weak ez ye did a minnit ago?” 

Dan did not reply for a moment. Undoubtedly 
there was force in the remarks of His partner. But 
still there seemed to be at least one weak point about 
the solution. 

“Your insight does you credit, my friend,” he 
said; “but supposing your explanation to have been 
correct, can you tell me why Robinson should have 
shot Hatfield, his partner in crime? Surely he would 
not have gained the latter’s consent to such an ar- 
rangement?” 

“Thets the only thing thet puzzles me,” responded 
Ryan; “an ez ye say, s’posin’ thet I’m kerrect, the 
on’y way I kin ’count fer it, is this: Thar ain’t no 
doubt thet Robinson was down on Hatfield in real 
earnest. He was mad from ’way back. He thout 
he could kill two birds with one stun, d’ye see? Ef 
he could git even with Hatfield fer the game what 
was played by him, an’ at the same time take away 
all doubt from Esther, why nothin’ would hev suited 
him better on the face o’ this terrestrial ball. Taran- 
talers an’ catamounts ! It seems ez plain ez day to 
me. Why, ef he could gobble us all without any 
extry trouble to hisself, he was jist the man to do it. 
In course, nothin’ ain’t sartin ’in life, but ef I was a 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


135 


bettin’ man I’d be willin’ to do a leetle gamblin’ onto 
this thing.” 

The scout’s theory was undoubtedly very cunning, 
as well as plausible. But it did not fully convince 
his listeners. Perhaps Esther’s opinion, in a matter of 
this kind, was of no special value, because her ex- 
perience in life had been rather brief, as compared 
with that of her two companions. But she was 
naturally a shrewd girl, and her inborn tact seldom 
led her astray. 

But with Dan it was a different matter. His 
knowledge of human nature was widely varied and 
complete ; and although he was always open to con- 
viction, when he had heard all sides of a case and 
firmly made up his mind to a certain decision, he 
was not easily changed from it. He was confident 
that Robinson had spoken his mind, and meant what 
he said, and he could not help acknowledging that 
there was force in Ryan’s words. 

“You have mapped out a pretty strong case, my 
friend,” he said; “but I think you have done Robin- 
son an injustice. However, time alone can tell. 
In the meanwhile let us at least be charitable. For 
one, I cannot but think you have made an error of 
judgment, shrewd and calculating as you are.” 

“And I agree with you again, Mr. Sycamore 
Dan,” ejaculated Esther, with enthusiasm. 

“Maybe, maybe,” rejoined Ryan; “an’ I hope I 
hev. But I sha’n’t go back on what I’ve said till I 
find I’m wrong, ye kin bet on that. Anyhow, ef I am 
wrong, it’ll be one of the very few times.” 

The conversation then turned to other subjects, and 
Esther told her friends all Robinson had imparted 
to her about the two broncho tracks mixed in the 
trail left by Persimmon Bill’s party. This she cited 


136 


THE FRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


as an indication that her father and sister had been 
carried off. 

“In the morning,” said Ryan, “we’ll start on the 
trail, an’ afore many days we’ll hev them outen the 
hands o’ these devils, or know the reason why. But 
what puzzles me is, what in thunder we’re a-goin’ 
to do with Miss Esther while we’re gone on this leetle 
trip.” 

The group were silent. That was a question, with- 
out mistake. Esther herself was the first to speak. 

“I don’t see why that should trouble you,” she 
said, so quietly that they were startled by her man- 
ner. 

“Why not?” asked Dan. “I think it is a matter of 
great importance. We must lose no time in start- 
ing. Already these men have too much headway, 
and we cannot afford to lose time. Otherwise the 
matter might be solved very easily, for we could 
escort you to Fort Hays, and then return to our 
other duties. As it is, I must confess that I am 
somewhat in the dark as to what is the best course.” 

“But / am not.” 

“Indeed? Then perhaps you will tell us what is to 
become of you?” 

“Certainly — with pleasure. I shall join you in this 
undertaking.” 

A thunderbolt out of a clear sky could not have 
startled them more. Dan sat perfectly aghast with 
astonishment, and Ryan’s only comment was a long- 
drawn whistle. 

“To be sure I shall go!” reiterated Esther, stoutly. 
“Why should I not? If I were the one who was un- 
fortunate enough to be captured, would not my 
father come to my rescue? Should I be less loyal 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


137 


to him I could not hold up my head — I should sink 
with shame.” 

“I can understand your feelings, Miss Esther,’’ 
said Dan, “and admire you for what you have said. 
It shows that you are a brave and self-sacrificing 
girl, and one that any man might be proud to num- 
ber on his list of acquaintances. But have you fully 
weighed the danger, the hardship, the great risk of 
the journey we contemplate?” 

“I have, sir, thought very fully upon the subject, 
and you will believe me when I say that no danger 
can be so great, no hardship so severe, no risk so 
hazardous as to deter me from my wish. I am no 
child, and I come from blood that does not run in 
the veins of cowards or people who hesitate. Of 
course, if you do not desire my companionship, I 
shall not force myself upon you. But I tell you that 
as certain as the sun rises to-morrow morning, I 
shall go to the rescue of my father. If I do not go 
with you, I shall go alone !” 

She spoke with impetuous vigor, and where she 
made reference to her ancestry, there was a ring of 
pride in her voice, which had a deep significance. 
Her friends had not yet fully recovered from the 
surprise occasioned by her expressed determination, 
and so did not reply at once to her fiery speech of 
reiteration. 

“Well,” asked Dan of his -partner, after a pause, 
“what do you say, Ryan?” 

“I vote 'yea,’ ” responded the scout, good-hu- 
moredly. “She may prove of use to us in the big job 
we hev got on hand. At enny rate she won’t hin- 
der. All I’m afraid of is thet she’ll not be able to 
stan’ the journey.” 

But Esther assured "them that she could endure 


138 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


any amount of exposure in such a cause, and would 
listen to no dissuasions. 

And so, that point settled, the party rolled up on 
the ground to sleep until morning. Esther to con- 
gratulate herself upon the good fortune which had 
led her to such friends as these ; Ryan to cogitate 
with some bitterness upon the supposed desertion of 
Robinson, and Dan to reflect that Esther was simply 
the perfection of womanhood. 

“By Jove,” he asked himself, half drowsily, “I 
wonder if I am falling in love with her? Well,” 
(after a pause) “if I am, I have the satisfaction of 
knowing that if I had searched the whole world 
over, I couldn’t have found a better object for my 
affections.” 

And so the three friends dozed peacefully off, 
while Vixen kept guard. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


139 


CHAPTER XV. 

THE FUGITIVES AND THEIR PRISONERS. 

It becomes necessary at this time to follow the 
movements of Marian and Doc Harper, not only be- 
cause much of the interest of this story attaches to 
them, but also in order to explain some future occur- 
rences which might otherwise puzzle the reader. 

When Robinson inferred from the traces left by 
the retreating band, that the two ^bronchos were 
ridden by Marian and her father, he showed that 
his long training on the frontier had not been in 
vain. 

They had, indeed, been unfortunate enough to fall 
into the hands of their foes. They were soon bound, 
and as the hunters were thoroughly defeated by that 
time, the Bloodsuckers began to prepare for their 
retreat. 

Old Doc Harper was half stunned and well-nigh 
exhausted by the sharp encounter he had taken part 
in, but felt disposed to be thankful that Esther, at 
least, had escaped. He was doubly grateful, because 
the whole attack had been planned and executed 
for the purpose of making this particular capture 
and it furnished his resentment with food to know 
that, so far as the real object of the murderous as- 
sault was concerned, the whole thing was a failure. 

But where was Esther? What would become of 
her, alone in the midst of a strange and wild coun- 
try? Would she succeed in eluding the pursuers 
who would surely be sent upon her track ? And if 


140 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


she did, would she not perish from fatigue and star- 
vation? 

Better that — better a thousand times that she 
should die and go back to her Father pure and un- 
sullied as when He sent her here, than to live a hun- 
dred lives on earth after once falling into the hands 
of Persimmon Bill. 

It was a hard alternative, hut it was the better of 
the two, and in the stern integrity of his heart he 
would have preferred it. He had little fear for Ma- 
rian. The robber chief had always shown dislikeTor 
her, and therefore the danger was not so great in 
her case. 

The band soon got under way, and before day- 
light appeared they were well on their way. The 
road chpsen led them away to the southward, and 
during the afternoon it swung, around toward the 
west. 

One thing Harper could not understand — that was 
the non-appearance of the chief of the robbers. Al- 
though the party had been many hours on the anarch, 
Persimmon Bill was still invisible. But perhaps he 
had gone personally in search of Esther? That, no 
doubt, explained his absence. The father and 
daughter were allowed free intercourse, and im- 
proved the liberty thus given them by cheering each 
other as best they might. 

Of the two, Marian was in the best spirits. ■: She 
had all the sanguine disposition of youth, and was 
confident that before very long there would come a 
time when, in place of captivity, they should have 
freedom, and possibly an even exchange of positions 
with their enemies.. The young girl was defiant 
and aggressive. When one or two of the Blood- 
suckers took occasion to speak to her in taunting 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


141 


tones, she did not sulk or pout, but answered them 
in a like spirit to the one they exhibited. She was 
sharp and brilliant as a diamond, and they were 
glad, as a rule, to retire from her presence after a 
very few words. 

One of their number, however, a repulsive-looking 
fellow, was more persistent than the rest. He re- 
turned to the attack after every rebuff, and more 
than once made use of expressions which were 
shocking to her ears. But, unfortunately, she was at 
his mercy, and her only weapon was her tongue. 
She made the most of her resources, however, and 
talked with such biting sarcasm that he at last be- 
came intensely enraged. 

It was well along toward five o’clock in the after- 
noon when this culminating point to their conversa- 
tion was reached. The prisoners rode far back 
toward the rear of the cavalcade, so that such of the 
band as cared to talk to them must pull up their 
horses and wait for them to catch up. 

Marian and her tormentor were traveling side by 
side, and both were so thoroughly occupied in the 
task of making each other uncomfortable, that 
they did not notice a third horseman who ap- 
proached behind them with the evident purpose of 
overhearing their remarks. The ruffian was in the 
midst of his cowardly work, and was saying : 

“Oh, my fine bird, you may flutter and dash your 
wings against the bars now, but when we end this 
journey I shall tone you down a bit.” 

Marian shrugged her shoulders. 

“Indeed! Do you think so? How, let me tell you, 
that if you undertake that operation you will require 
help. It is not work that a half-witted child can 
succeed in doing unaided.” 


142 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


The man fairly gnashed his teeth at this thrust of 
bitter sarcasm. 

“We shall see. The chief has never yet denied 
me any request I made of him ; and when I tell him 
what is the dearest wish of my life, I am sure he will 
grant it.” 

“Well, perhaps he will. I have always heard that 
the best way to dear" with people afflicted with im- 
becility is to humor them. But what might be the 
nature of this wish — the dearest wish of your life, I 
believe you said?” 

“So you do possess, among other traits, the femin- 
ine one of curiosity. The wish is that you should be 
made my mistress.” 

Boiling with indignation as Marian was, she could 
have scarcely wished her tormentor to receive more 
instantaneous punishment than he did ; for at that 
moment a huge revolver, thrown by an unerring 
hand, hurtled through the air and struck him upon 
the back of his head. 

He fell forward upon the ground, stunned and 
bleeding, and a voice, which was, not altogether un- 
familiar to Marian’s ears, called out these words, in 
an authoritative manner : 

“Halt, men! One of your number has fallen.” 

The horses were stopped in a moment, and very 
shortly the men were gathered about the spot where 
their comrade lay. At this moment he began to 
show signs of returning consciousness, and, as soon 
as he had recovered enough to understand, the per- 
son who had spoken before said : 

“Men, take warning by this. I want you to under- 
stand that this young lady’s sister is all the world to 
me, and that so long as I am obliged to -hold captive 
any friend or relative of hers, they must be re- 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


143 



THE PRISONERS, 


144 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


spected. The first man among you who repeats Jthis 
performance, shall answer for it with his life. Move 
on.” 

The offender was assisted to his saddle, ~and ac- 
companied the march with downcast eyes and sub- 
dued mien. 

Marian and her father had instantly recognized 
in the speaker Esther’s former lover, who was none 
other than Persimmon Bill himself. 

Under any other circumstances both would have 
berated him in the most condemnatory terms for the 
part he had played. But he had rendered them a 
service in saving a defenseless girl from wanton in- 
sult, and they were obliged, reluctant though they 
were, to acknowledge a certain sense of gratitude to 
him. 

At dusk the party halted, and took a rest of six 
hours duration, after which the mustangs were 
again saddled, and the weary journey was resumed. 
At daybreak there was another brief stop, and then 
they went on again. 

About eight o’clock the leaders reached the bank 
of a shallow stream, the water of which flowed with 
great rapidity over a hard, pebbly bottom. Into this 
the horses were driven, and for the next four hours 
they floundered on through the river itself, following 
its course carefully. 

Just as the sun reached the meridian the party 
came to a long, flat rock, lying in the midst of the 
narrow current. Upon this the horses were driven, 
and it was announced that there would be a rest of 
several hours. 

This served as a relief for the tired travelers , 
many of whom were soon stretched at full length, 
basking in the warm sunlight, while the tough and 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


145 


hardy beasts which had borne them munched upon 
grain taken from the sacks with which the two or 
three riderless horses were loaded. 

For some time Marian was unable to determine 
why such an uncomfortable- spot had been selected 
for the camp. But she was not kept in suspense. 
Several of the Bloodsuckers were soon busy making 
a kind of rude forge out of stones picked up from the 
river bottom. They then produced from one of the 
large sacks a heap of charcoal and some tools. 

“What are they going to do&T asked the girl of her 
father. 

“Fm sure I don’t know, my child. But I should 
think they were about to open a blacksmith shop.” 

This random surmise proved to be nearly correct, 
for as soon as the fire had been lighted the men be- 
gan to remove the shoes from the feet of their horses, 
turning them around, and fastening them on in a 
reversed direction. 

“Thunder!” exclaimed old Doc Harper, when he 
fully understood the purport of this design. “They 
are reversing the shoes so as to leave a backward 
trail. You see, when we are going west, the tracks 
will indicate that we are taking a course that is di- 
rectly opposite. W-h-e-w ! It is a shrewd game. ” 

The work was finished by three in the afternoon, 
and after every trace of the halt had been removed 
from the rock, they prepared to depart. 

Just as they were jfibout to mount, Hatfield’s men, 
who had followed with but little rest, came riding 
down the stream. Marian and her father were over- 
joyed to observe that the party was unaccompanied 
by Esther. They noticed, that Bill and Hatfield, 
whose arm was in a sling, conferred apart for some 


146 THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 

time, and the chief seemed greatly annoyed at what 
was communicated by his lieutenant. 

But no time was wasted in useless regrets, and the 
Bloodsuckers now resumed their journey, leaving 
Hatfield’s party occupying the spot where they them- 
selves had been for the past few hours. The com- 
pany left behind was swelled by the addition of ten 
more men taken from the main body* thus leaving 
the numbers about equally divided. These men, 
Marian learned from her father, were probably to be 
used for the purpose of leading their pursuers off the 
track. 

“It is the sharpest trick I ever saw,” said the old 
man, ruefully, “and it will mislead the best trail- 
finder in America. ” 

During the afternoon Marian had an opportunity 
to speak to Persimmon Bill, and she took advantage 
of the chance to tell him how glad she was that he 
had missed her sister. 

The chief glared at her an instant, and then, with 
his old, reckless laugh, exclaimed : 

“Never you mind, my pretty one ! I have not given 
up the chase even yet. When I undertake any 
task, I always finish it before I cease trying. Your 
sister will yet be mine. I have sworn it, and it must 
be so.” 

Their course was a little south of west, and they 
traveled in a very leisurely fashion, stopping at sun- 
down and resting all night, which was something 
new, and indicated that there was no longer any 
hurry. 

Shortly after Persimmon Bill and his party had 
appeared over the western bank of the river, Hat- 
field’s followers toiled up the eastern side, and took 
a course which led to the south-east. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


147 


The reader will please bear in mind the relative 
directions taken by these two divisions of the main 
force, as a complete understanding of the next chap- 
ter depends upon the course suggested. 

There was but one thing about the party com- 
manded by Hatfield which claimed particular at- 
tention. From a small aperture in a key, sus- 
pended over the side of one of the horses, poured a 
slender stream of gunpowder. 


148 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

IN THE MORNING. 

Dan, Ryan, and Esther were up betimes. After 
a hasty and not gluttonous repast upon what was 
left of the bacon, the scout, accompanied by his pet, 
started over to camp, for the purpose of getting what 
supplies he could, find, and also to procure all possi- 
ble information as to the movements of the Blood- 
suckers. 

Shortly after sunrise he returned with four horses 
and a considerable amount of bacon and other eat- 
ables, together with arms, ammunition, and blank- 
ets in abundance. The animals he had found at 
different points, wandering aimlessly about. One 
of them he loaded with such supplies as he could 
pick up among the ruins of the camp, while to the 
others he fastened saddles. The side-saddle belong- 
ing to Esther he found among the other articles 
strewn about, and she was glad enough to learn that 
one, at least, of the discomforts of her prospective 
journey was to be removed. 

Ryan had, in addition to his other work, examined 
the trail left by the retreating band, and found 
everything just as Robinson had represented to Es- 
ther. He hardly knew whether to be pleased or 
mortified at the discovery, because it conflicted some- 
what with his own expressed ideas of the lack of 
faith shown by the late robber. But he was satis- 
fied to remain silent £nd trust to the future to prove 
his theory, and therefore made no further comment. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


149 


They were soon mounted and away, intersecting 
the trail of the fugitive robbers some miles distant. 
Their horses were comparatively fresh, and during 
the day they made good headway, stopping only long 
enough to lunch at noon, and then pressing straight 
forward. 

At night, however, they rested nearly nine hours, 
and were on the march again early the following 
morning. About five in the afternoon they reached 
the edge of the river where the robbers had entered 
the water. As darkness was coming on rapidly 
they did not go farther that day, because it would 
have been difficult in the uncertain light to discover 
where the party in advance had left the water. 

But as soon as the first faint streaks of dawn 
showed themselves upon the horizon they resumed 
their journey, and at about ten o’clock they reached 
the flat rock where Persimmon Bill’s men had 
changed the shoes on their horses. 

Vixen, who had been trotting along the bank of 
the river, far in advance of her master, was the first 
to find the trail where it came up out of the water, 
and she stood sounding her weird signal until the 
three friends came up. 

Thus far the trail of the robbers had led due west. 
What, then, was the surprise of the pursuers to ob- 
serve that on the bank of the river it suddenly 
turned back again toward the rising sun. 

“They hev doubled on us, an’ no mistake,” said 
Ryan, with a rueful expression. “Ef we’d only a 
knowed it we might hev cut acrost an’ headed ’em 
off. But ez it is, I can’t see any use o’ wastin’ time 
repinin’ over our sorrers. Ef we’re goin’ to ketch 
’em we must be at it.” 

While the party stood talking on the bank of the 


150 THE PKAIRIE DETECTIVE. 

stream they had failed to see that Vixen was no 
longer with them. But as the scout finished speak- 
ing they heard her familiar cry. She was now on 
the opposite side of the river. Observing by her ac- 
tions that she had made some new discovery, Ryan 
crossed to where she stood, over the reversed trail. 

“Hello !” he exclaimed; “why, the cusses hev ben 
j’ined by another gang from the west’ard Great 
snakes ! ef we keep on this way, we’ll hev to tackle 
an army afore long.” 

As may readily be surmised, the scout and his 
friends were not particular in examining the trail, 
but started off at once upon the false scent so cun- 
ningly planned to lead them astray. 

Vixen showed great unwillingness to go in that 
direction, and more than once her master, who 
placed great reliance in her, was tempted to stop 
and go back. But he reflected that he must be right 
in following such a plainly laid trail, and kept 
ahead. 

It was noon the next day when the party discov- 
ered that~their fugitives were still doubling upon 
them. The tracks, which had started in a south- 
easterly direction, swung around in an immense 
semicircle to the northward, finally leading back 
and across the river. Then a similar semicircle led 
to the westward, and back again to the river-bank, 
some miles below the big rock, thus making an 
enormous and complete ring around that center. 

The scout and his friends kept right on over the 
pathway. 

“We kin travel ez long ez they kin,” he observed, 
philosophically, “an’ ef we leave the track now, ten 
to one we won’t ketch it agin.” 

Upon reaching the river the second time the trail 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIJE. 


151 


led up to the bank of the stream. The party had 
been three whole days completing the circle, and it 
was nearly dus]£ when they came in sight of the big 
flat rock again. 

“Wasted time!” said Dan, in tones which showed 
his discontent. “Halloa! what’s that?” 

With his index finger he pointed toward a white 
placard fastened upon a pole which was erected in 
a crevice upon the rock. The friends spurred their 
horses out into the stream. In a few moments they 
were where they could read the inscription traced 
in black letters upon the paper. The legend ran 
thus: 

“THIS IS A HOT COUNTRY! 

LOOK OUT FOR FIRE! 

Compliments of Persimmon Bill.” 

✓ ^ 

“What does it mean?” asked the detective, some- 
what puzzled by the enigmatic words. 

Just then a flash of light illuminated the air. 
Looking in the direction from which it came, they 
saw that there was a great blaze, which spread in 
every direction with the rapidity of lightning. Their 
eyes sprang from one point of the compass to the 
other, but only to be met at every turn by the same 
yellow light. 

“Again I say, what does it mean?” were Dan’s 
words, as his cheek turned a shade paler. Ryan was 
very quiet, but his countenance was as white as 
death. 

Vixen stood erect an instant, and then thrust her 
muzzle into the air with a wild and mournful 
scream. 

Esther, as pale as Sycamore Dan, waited eagerly 
for the scout’s words of explanation. 


152 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


They came, scarcely louder than a whisper, but so 
distinct that they were graven upon the hearts of 
his hearers for years afterward : 

“The perrairie is afire on every side. We are 
trapped in a livin’ wall o’ flame.” 

There was a moment of dreadful silence. Then 
Dan spoke. 

“God help us, then,” he said, “for there is no es- 
cape.” 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


153 


CHAPTER XVII. 

THE BURNING PRAIRIE. 

The chances for life seemed small indeed. On 
every hand the flames sprang into the air, shooting 
long forked tongues toward the heavens, as if a mil- 
lion fiery and gigantic serpents were approaching 
with bodies erect and eyeballs glaring wildly. 

It was a grand, and yet an awful scene. Covering 
a vast area, around which the fire drew a wide ring, 
with no apparent break in the infolding ribbon of 
flame, the spectacle was one which might readily 
strike terror to the hearts of those who were prison- 
ers within the seething circle. 

The three friends did not remain long inactive. To 
have stood still and awaited the oncoming destroyer 
would have been madness. But what was to be 
done? Was there no outlet? The prospect was dark 
and forbidding. 

The depressing sentence spoken by Sycamore Dan 
had deep effect on all of them. Yet it was only tem- 
porary. The loud roar of the flames could be heard 
in the distance, like the rumbling voice of approach- 
ing thunder. It came booming over them like the 
grim voice of some spectral monster, traveling 
toward them with wide-open jaws and threatening 
mien. 

“I see it all !” cried Esther. “We have been en- 
ticed to our death. While we were following the 
trail laid down for us, we were cutting ourselves off 
from the only chance of escape.” 


154 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


“I reckon ye’ve hit the nail on the head, Miss 
Esther,” observed Ryan, with the same dread calm- 
ness in voice and manner. 

Sycamore Dan was the next to speak. 

“Is there no possible relief from our terrible posi- 
tion?” 

“Yes,” replied the scout. “There is just one possible 
chance.” 

“Why not take to the water?” was Esther’s sug- 
gestion. 

“It ain’t the flames we need be afraid of,” re- 
sponded Ryan. “But inside twenty minnits thar’ll 
be a shower o’ sparks round hyar thicker nor any 
rain-storm ye ever see. Them’s what we must look 
out for. An’ ez we can’t live with our heads under 
water, why thet would be a useless trick.” 

“What then is the only chance you speak of. How 
shall we conquer the flames?” 

“We must _ fight fire with fire. Thet is our last 
show fer life.” 

“Well, then, let us be about it. How shall we be- 
gin?” 

“Ye hev noticed, p’raps, thet fer a couple o’ hun- 
dred feet each side o’ this stream, the grass and 
bushes is so green thet they won’t burn. Wal, ye 
must go to t’other side o’ thet green strip, an’ tech 
off the dry stuff. It will burn to’rd them flames 
cornin’, an’ meet ’em half way, so thet ther’ll be a 
clean sweep, an’ yet we will be free from the result 
of it. See?” 

“Yes, perfectly.” 

“Then be off. You, Dan, take the t’other shore, 
an’ I’ll tackle this one. Esther’ll please roost hyer 
till we come back.” 

All the talk and cogitation had not consumed five 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


155 


minutes ; and in an additional period of equal length 
the two men had started their opposing fires. The 
theory that great flames generate rapid currents of 
air which blow in the direction taken by their cre- 
ators, thus urging the devastating element faster 
and faster upon its course, has long been accepted as 
true. The watchers, who gazed anxiously at the 
work of their hands, their hopes rising as each 
tongue of |fire shot upward, were able to bear wit. 
ness to the correctness of the proposition which has 
since become an established fact in science. 

They could see the approaching column of fire, 
whirling along toward them, rolling over and over 
like a huge red-crested billow propelled by some un- 
seen force. Between |it and themselves was rising 
with ever increasing strength the flame they had 
kindled. It went out to meet the oncoming foe, like 
a small army, recruiting its strength as it traveled, 
marching to oppose an arrogant invading force. 
And like the rulers who stay behind in times of war, 
to guide and instruct the bearers of their arms, 
watching anxiously for the result, were those three 
friends, who with throbbing hearts and distended 
eyes stood in mid-stream, gazing fixedly at the battle 
of flame. 

The defensive fire, as it gathered power, also gen- 
erated a strong breeze which blew in direct antagon- 
ism to the one created by the opposing flames. Thus 
each breeze, freighted with its load of burning coals, 
caught and checked the sparks of the other, so that 
as the creeping skirmish lines approached each 
other, reaching out to meet and do battle with their 
foes, the scene became one of intense grandeur. 

As far as the eye could reach, to the east, west, 
south, and north, there was a wall of flying particles 


156 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


heated to a brilliant hue. Tossed like feathers upon 
the tempest, they flashed through the air, casting 
reflections of rare and prismatic beauty. The two 
battling currents of air, as they came together, 
caught and sucked up the burning fragments with 
irresistible force. Long and gaunt-looking branches 
' of dead trees ; great bunches of dried grass ; little 
clumps of sage-brush ; slender, spear-like reeds, 
which had grown, bloomed, and faded in the hol- 
lows ; all were torn from the spot on which they 
chanced to lie, and tossed upward, surrounded with 
flame. It was a scene not witnessed once in a cen- 
tury. 

The roar of the contending elements now became 
deafening. The air, too, was freighted with the un- 
wholesome odor of burning vegetable matter. A 
dull, dry heat settled down upon the spot where the 
besieged party stood. 

But the danger had passed, and each mentally 
thanked Heaven for having preserved them from 
the danger which threatened. 

The wall of burning fragments began to diminish 
in height. It was soon filled with great black gaps, 
beyond which the heavy mantle of night shot 
gloomily in. Across these increasing breaches in 
the once solid chain, darted at distant intervals, 
single objects, bright with fire. They looked in that 
gloomy atmosphere like grand pyrotechnic displays. 
The perils over, the friends began to realize the rare 
beauty of the scene around them. But they had lit- 
tle time to comment upon its many points of attrac- 
tiveness. 

Since fires had been kindled by Ryan and Dan, the 
scout had been silent to an unwonted degree. His 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 157 

mind had gone back to the problem of overtaking 
the Bloodsuckers. 

It was evident to him that the flames had been 
kindled by the pursued, with a double purpose. 
They would, if they succeeded, both obliterate the 
trail and destroy the pursuers. The scheme had been 
well planned and neatly executed, but it had failed. 
What had to be done next? And why had the trail 
of the robbers taken such a circuitous course? 
Surely, with their force they could have whipped all 
that was left of the hunting party. Why then had 
Persimmon Bill taken such pains to throw them off 
the scent? 

Another thing the scout could not quite understand. 
That was the trail crossing the river from, the west- 
ward. On the whole, Ryan was pretty badly mud- 
dled. 

“Well,” he muttered, “IT1 sleep on it to-night, an’ 
in the mornin’ I may be able to hit a leetle nigher 
the truth nor I hev yet.” 

The friends ate a hearty supper, and were soon 
wrapped in heavy slumber, while Vixen assumed 
her old position as sentry. 

It was very nearly daylight when they were 
awakened by a signal from the wild-cat. 

Listening intently they could hear sounds made 
by a horse approaching rapidly. Who the rider could 
be, and why he should be traveling alone in such 
evident haste across the seared and blackened prai- 
rie, they could not imagine. The horse came nearer 
and nearer at a full run. 

Ryan looked at Vixen. If it was an enemy, she 
would be sure to indicate as much by growling and 
showing other signs of displeasure. She seemed to 


158 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


possess the faculty of scenting a foe at long distance. 

Would she show wrath or pleasure now? 

Could he believe his eyes? Was it possible that he 
had a friend in this wilderness? If Vixen was to be 
relied upon, that was the exact truth. For, instead 
of expressing anger, she actually bounded into the 
air with apparent delight. 

Closer and closer came the rider at his reckless 
pace. It was time to check his career, ere he should 
dash straight over them. 

“Halt! Who goes there?” cried Ryan, in com- 
manding tones. 

The horse reared to its haunches almost against 
the hunter’s form. The animal was covered with 
foam, its eyes were dilated with excitement and 
fatigue, and its nostrils trembled as the breath came 
and went in short, quick throbs. 

“From the back of the tired hired horse came an 
answer to the challenge. 

“If you are, as I suspect, Posey Ryan, Sycamore 
Dan, and Esther Harper, I am a friend.” 

It was the voice of Jack Robinson. 

“Ye’ve guessed it, young feller. But what d’ye 
want?” 

“Listen and you shall hear.” 

The scout and his friends beat their heads atten- 
tively, but at the same time kept their eyes in full 
range of the man who had just arrived. 

Sounds fell upon their ears at once. More horse- 
men were approaching in the distance. 

“Well,” said Dan, after he had identified the 
noises, “what are we to learn from that?” 

“You may learn that four of Persimmon Bill’s 
gang are following on my trail. You may learn that 
I am hunted like a dog, for trying to save you from 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


159 


the flames. You may learn that I have risked all 
and lost all for you !” 

Until that moment Ryan had firmly believed that 
when he met Robinson, one or the other of them 
must die. But now he found that his feeling toward 
the Bloodsucker was not altogether vengeful. He 
was a man who would help friend or foe in time of 
danger, and, after all, it had not been directly proved 
that Robinson was a traitor. Still he by no means 
acknowledged that his former estimate of the man 
had been wholly incorrect. But there was little 
doubt that danger threatened them all alike. He 
would certainly help to avert that, at all events. 

“Wal, Mister Robinson,” he began, ‘‘I don’t know 
for sartin that what ye say is true, nor I don’t know 
that it ain’t. But jest now we’re all in the nine- 
hole, an’ ef nothin’ happens, me an’ my pardner will 
help pull ye through. Ef ther’s anythin’ to be said 
arterwards, why we’ll say it.” 

It grew rapidly lighter, until in a very few min- 
utes it was possible to see for some distance in every 
direction. The three men moved forward a few 
paces, and secreted themselves behind a clump of 
bushes, situated upon the crest of a little knoll. 

The horses of the pursuing Bloodsuckers soon came 
in sight, and in a very few moments were in easy, 
range. 

“Take keerful aim,” said Ryan, “an’ when I give 
the word, blaze away.” 

The men were now not more than a hundred yards 
away — seventy-five— fifty. 

“Fire!” 

The report of the three rifles was simultaneous. 
When the thin cloud of blue smoke lifted, three of 
the saddles of the Bloodsuckers were empty, and the 


160 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


frightened horses were running wildly over the prai- 
rie. 

The fourth rider, quite unscathed, checked his ani- 
mal as quickly as possible, and turned to fly. 

But in the meantime Dan had reloaded his rifle, 
and before the horse had made three jumps his rider 
rolled heavily upon the ground, stone dead, with an 
ounce of lead in his brain. 

The work had been done well and quickly. 

“Now then, ” said Ryan, coolly, as he rolled over 
so as to face Robinson; “now then we’ll listen to 
what ye’ve got to say.” 

“I agree at once,” responded the man. “But as 
the story is interesting to all of us, I should like to 
have the young lady hear it also.” 

“Sartin,” observed the scout. “That’s a good idee. 
So let’s go back to camp.” 

In five minutes they were seated about the fire, 
and Robinson was telling his story. 

“It isn’t a very long yarn,” said he, “but what 
there is of it is true. The young lady has, no doubt, 
told you all there was to tell about the little aid I 
was able to grant her. Of course when the gang, 
headed by that devil Hatfield, came up I knew it 
was no use for me to try and do battle against so 
many, and therefore I was obliged to use my cun- 
ning in drawing them off the scent. In this scheme 
I was entirely successful, and I did not learn until 
nightfall, after I had been leading them away for 
three or four hours, of your imprisonment by Hat- 
field. It disturbed me more than you can guess, be- 
cause I knew you would think that was my work. 
However, I did not fear for your ultimate safety, 
because I had directed Miss Esther how to find you, 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


161 


and I knew that I could trust fully to her shrewdness 
and tact. 

“Well, we soon struck the 'main trail, and fol- 
lowed it to this point, where we overtook the rest of 
the gang. The chief was mighty mad when he found 
That we had missed what we were sent for. Indeed 
he was so much put out with Hatfield, who had been 
sent in charge of our party, that he immediately as- 
signed him to do additional duty in spite of the fact 
that the infernal coward was badly wounded, and 
was nearly crazy to go along with the young woman 
and her father. 

“By the way, it was I who wounded Hatfield — 
quite accidentally, you know — and as I was the only 
one in the party who knew anything about medi- 
cine, I also had to dress his wound two or three times 
a day. I hound it up in herbs regularly, but owing 
to some oversight one of the doses I plastered on con- 
tained some foreign substance which has caused his 
shoulder to swell so you couldn’t get it into a bushel 
basket. Shouldn’t wonder if he died from it,” con- 
tinued the ex-robber, with a smile of calm and su- 
preme satisfaction. 

“Well this extra duty assigned to our party was to 
make a wide circle to the east and north, so as to 
make pursuers think we had doubled on them ; for 
the chief was sure we should be followed. And so 
we left the main party here on this rock.” 

“What become of ’em?” asked Ryan. 

“They went West.” 

“But how’s thet? The trail p’ints east’ard.” 

“I know it does, but then, you see, the horses’ 
shoes were reversed upon their feet.” 

“Thunder!” exclaimed the scout, in the greatest 
astonishment. 


162 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


“Impossible !” said Dan in much the same tone. 

“Is it? Just wait here a second.” 

Robinson rose, and waded out into the stream. He 
soon returned with three or four fiat rocks, which he 
lifted from the bed of the river. 

“See if there are not marks of fire on those,” he 
said. “And if that don’t convince you I’ll bring 
every stone that was used in the forge.” 

The look of doubt on Ryan’s face passed quickly 
away, and was replaced by one that was half won- 
der, half chagrin. 

“Outwitted, by hokey ! Wal, may I be everlast- 
ingly chawed up, ef I ever see sich a smart trick in 
my life. Wal, go on with the music. Gosh! what 
a peart cuss that Persimmon Bill must be!” 

“This circle was partly for the purpose of leading 
pursuers astray, and partly to lay a train of powder. 
That was to be touched off when we were sure that 
we had our men where we wanted them. Well, I 
had charge of the keg which held the powder, and 
as I knew you would be the first to follow us, I 
plugged up the hole one night, and left a gap nearly 
ten miles wide without a particle of the stuff in it. 
My object was to get away from them and warn 
you in time to save you from the terrible death in 
store for you, by leading you out of the circle 
through this gap. 

“But, unfortunately for me, Hatfield owed me a 
grudge, and watched me mighty close. After the 
trail was laid, he took all but. five of us, who were 
left to fire the powder, and went to join the chief. 
On the day when we crossed your trail the last time, 
and knew you were here, it was determined to touch 
off the train. I was very tired from my past exer- 
tions, and so fell asleep. I had horrible dreams, and 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


163 


it appears that I also talked in my slumber, for I 
waked up suddenly to find myself tied hand and foot, 
while my companions stood about determining what 
should be done with me. 

“It was in vairr that I protested my innocence. 
They refused to believe me, and I was obliged to re- 
'main securely bound. During all that long after- 



ROBINSON ESCAPING FROM PERSIMMON BILL’S GANG, 
noon I suffered agonies. I was afraid you would be 
caught in the flames and burned, yet I could not 
help you. The men had decided to carry me to the 
chief and tell him about me. That meant death, 
and I knew it. Just at dark the train was lighted 
on both sides of the river. Oh, Heaven ! what I en- 
dured while the fire was blazing, you do not know ! 


164 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


“My captors went to sleep while the terrible flames 
still raged. During the night I succeeded in slipping 
the cords which bound me down, and, mounted upon 
my horse, I rode away. They awoke, and followed 
— and you know the rest.” 

Ryan’s confidence was completely restored. He 
held out his hand, and his voice trembled a little as 
he said : 

“I hev doubted ye, Jack, an’ I was a mighty mean 
galoot to do it. Thar’s my hand, an’ ef I ever kin 
sarve ye in any way, don’t ye hesitate one single 
doggoned instant to tell me of it.” 

The two clasped hands fervently, after which the 
other friends signified the non-abatement of their 
confidence in the same manner. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


165 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

WORKING IN EARNEST. 

If you had seen the party two hours later you 
would nev£r in the world have recognized them as 
the same people who had sat in consultation beside 
the fire early in the morning. Robinson was the only 
member of the company who was unchanged in ap- 
pearance. Sycamore Dan was the most thoroughly 
disguised of the three others. 

His light hair was dyed to a deep and shining 
black, his eyebrows were heavily colored, and his 
skin was darkened to a deep yellow hue. In contrast 
to these points of make up, his eyes showed with pe- 
culiar brilliancy. His whole appearance was odd to 
a striking degree. 

Ryan had been almost as completely metamor- 
phosed. Previously his complexion was dark, and 
his hair and mustache were of a rich brown color. 
By some mysterious process his hair had undergone 
a sudden and complete change of hue. 

It was now so light as to be almost straw-colored. 
His mustache had disappeared, and his eyebrows 
had also given way to the influence of the magic 
dye. 

Esther was as thoroughly disguised as either of the 
others. Her splendid hair was shorn to a length 
compatible with the sex she represented, and she 
was clothed in a boy’s costume, hastily altered to 
suit her figure. The clothes had originally belonged 
to one of the dead Bloodsuckers, and the girl sliud- 


166 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


dered involuntarily when she donned them : Her 
skin, like Dan’s, had been colored to a very dark 
hue, if anything a trifle darker than the detective’s 
was. 

When the finishing touch had been added to her 
disguise, she looked very much like a plump lad of 
fourteen years or thereabouts, and in order to make 
the assumption perfect, there was only needed a lit- 
tle schooling in male habits of locomotion. 

“How on earth do you make these dyes?” asked 
Dan, turning with an inquiring look toward Robin- 
son,. in the midst of the operation which had made 
the change. 

“It is very simple. The yellow I make by boiling 
walnuts, as you have seen, and then adding to the 
liquid a small piece of gamboge, which I allow to 
dissolve. For the black I use galls and black lead, 
such as pencils are made of. There is a mine of this 
latter not many miles from here. You see my list of 
ingredients is not very large.” 

“So I observe. But at the same time there is an 
elegant sufficiency. Now, then, are we all ready?” 

As Dan tossed Esther lightly upon- the saddle in 
the attitude appropriate to her newly donned cos- 
tume, he noticed that she sat with an ease and grace 
which seemed to indicate that it was not the first 
time she had ridden horseback in that fashion. How- 
ever, without passing useless comments, he satisfied 
himself with the entirely correct reflection that girls 
very frequently, in the privacy of company confined 
to their own sex, do many strange things. 

When all was in readiness for the start the strange 
party put spurs to their horses, and were soon loping 
away over the hills in a direction almost straight 
west. 


’HE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


167 


“So you say, Jack, that the journey by this route 
is about two days distant ?” 

“Just about that. By the route taken by the chief 
it is a day longer. So, you see, we shall arrive at 
the rendezvous at about the same time as his party, 
or very little later.” 

“Wal,” put in Ryan, “we can’t get thar too soon 
to suit me; ye kin bet on thet.” 

They made good headway during the day, and 
when darkness arrived had covered fully half the 
distance between their starting point and destina- 
tion. 

They had not gone far upon their journey next 
day when they saw, some distance ahead of them, a 
large body of men coming in their direction. 

“By George!” ejaculated Robinson. “It’s some of 
the boys, as sure as a gun ! Are we all up in our 
parts?” 

“You bet we are!” responded Ryan. v 

The ex-robber began to signal to the coming 
party, and soon the two forces had joined. The new- 
comers were headed by Hatfield, who was bandaged 
profusely, and scowled with evident anger. “Hal- 
loa, Dick!” cried Robinson. “Where are you going 
with all these boys?” 

“To Fort Hays, it!” responded Hatfield, with 

a series of vile curses. “The chief is so devilish mad 
because we failed to get the girl, that he has or- 
dered me to the fort to head her off and bring her 
back. He is down on me to that extent that, well as 
he knows I want to stay where that girl is— well as 
he knows I am too ill to travel in safety, he insists 
on sending me away on every expedition.” 

Hatfield wound up his list of complaints with 
another series of fearful imprecations, and then, ap- 


168 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


parently noticing for the first time the presence of 
strangers, he exclaimed : 

“Why, who have we here?” 

“They are some friends,” Robinson replied, with a 
meaning wink, “with whom our party fell in after 
the big fire on the prairie. The same night we were 
all attacked by Indians, and — well, you see all that 
is left of the original party.” 

“What! four of the boys killed?” 

“That’s exactly it. We have traveled together 
since then. These gentlemen are going West. The 
thick, heavy-set one is Mr. Alvord, a large stock 
raiser, from Texas. He is hunting for a place to 
locate a big cattle-ranch around here somewhere. 
The two others are Tom Dupont and his son Jack. 
The father is Mr. Alford’s chief drover. They are 
all fond of a social bowl and a game of ‘draw,’ and 
so I thought it would be a good idea to introduce 
them to our employer, especially as they are likely, 
in case they settle in this vicinity, to know each 
other more intimately.” 

Again Robinson and Hatfield exchanged glances. 
This time, however, the latter’s expression was one 
of enjoyment of the joke his supposed friend had ut- 
tered. He went over and shook hands with the 
three strangers, saying he was “sure his employer 
would make their stay under his roof a pleasant one. ” 

The two bodies of men then parted company, each 
to resume their journey, and each lb chuckle over 
the fool’s errand the other was going on. 

“It’s the best thing in the world for us,” said 
Robinson, when they were once out of ear-shot, 
“that the expedition has started.” 

“Why so?” asked Esther. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


169 


“Because it don't leave more than four men about 
the place — that is, four besides the chief." 

“Then we shall have an easier time to catch our 
man," observed Dan, with a smile. 

“But still," added Ryan, with a dubious shake of 
his head; “the job ain’t no soft snap, for I hev 
allers heerd thet Persim William was a thunderin’ 
hard man to get away with. I d like to see him. 
I’ve had many a skrimmage with his men, but never 
yet had a chance to tackle the boss mmself." 

“Well, if we get over the ground as fast as we 
have been doing for the past day, your desire will 
be gratified ere the sun goes down to-night." 

Robinson’s prophecy proved to be correct, for, just 
as the god of day leaned toward the high crest of 
mountains to the westward, the horses loped over 
the brow of a sharp hill, full in sight of a large log 
house situated in a picturesque hollow. Two men 
stood near the door-way, and a third sat close at 
hand, under the shade of a large tree. A moss-bound 
stream flowed a few yards in the rear of the dwell- 
ing. 

As they approached, the man who sat beneath the 
tree rose and scanned them closely. They were 
soon near enough to distinguish features, and the 
proprietor of the place, as soon as he was satisfied of 
the identity of those approaching, resumed his seat. 

Dan instantly recognized Bill Creighton, the man 
he had come so far to seek. His fingers thrilled with 
a strange desire to clutch his enemy by the throat, 
but choked back the sensation and retained his com- 
posure. 

As soon as Ryan saw the stranger, he started vio- 
lently, and he turned a trifle paler. The blood rushed 
to his eyes, turning the whites to a dull red color. 


170 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


He was profoundly agitated, and his partner no- 
ticed the change that had come over him. But there 
was no time for explanations. 

Robinson called his chief aside, and spoke a few 
words in his ear, telling him the same story he had 
told Dick Hatfield about the identity of the men who 
accompanied him. After that they were introduced, 
and the chief of the Bloodsuckers received them cor- 
dially. 

When his eye met Ryan’s gaze it lingered there a 
minute, as if in doubt whether the countenance was 
not more or less familiar to him. But it was only a 
momentary hesitation. The party entered the house, 
and had soon gathered about the supper table. All 
ate with relish, and the new-comers played their 
parts like old stagers, giving no look or sign that was 
likely to betray them. 

They lingered long at supper. Wheh at , last they 
arose, their host conducted them into an inner apart- 
ment. The whole house was furnished roughly, and 
with an eye to comfort rather than beauty. In the 
room which they entered after supper there were a 
few wooden chairs and a table. At one end of the 
place were some scuttle doors, thrown back so as to 
show a flight of stairs leading down into a dark cel- 
lar. 

“This,” said the proprietor, “is my lounging room. 
By keeping those doors open the apartment is ren- 
dered cool and pleasant the year round. Just sit in 
that chair, Mr. Alford, close to the opening, and see 
how you will enjoy the draught. When you build 
in this vicinity you really must have a place like it.” 

Ryan acknowledged^ absently, that the air from 
the aperture was quite comfortable in distinction to 
the hot, close room. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


171 


“Doctor Delmay,” as Robinson had introduced 
Persimmon Bill, was very hospitable. He had sent 
Robinson, when they left the table, to attend to some 
matters at the stable, and he had not yet returned. 
But two of the other men accompanied the guests 
into the apartment where pipes and a bowl of punch 
were produced, and they prepared to spend a jolly 
evening. 

Ryan sat close beside the open scuttle doors, with 
his head on his hand, apparently deep in thought. 
Ever since he had met Persimmon Bill he seemed to 
be actuated by some strange emotion which Dan 
could not account for. The host noticed it too, for, 
turning to his guest, he said : 

“You are silent this evening, Mr. Alford. Pray 
tell me is anything wrong? Are you ill?” 

“Ho,” replied Ryan. “I ain’t ill, but I feel durned 
cur’us to-night.” 

Then a sudden thought seemed to strike him : 

“When I feel ez I do to-night I allers want to tell 
my story. It’s an interestin’ one, an’ ef ye think it 
wuth while, I’ll spin it off now. What d’ye say?” 

“Certainly, my dear sir. We should be delighted. 
Let us have it, by all means.” 

This was something new to Dan. He had often 
thought he should like to hear the life of his friend 
and partner, and here was his opportunity. But 
why did Ryan choose this time to tell it?” 

In less than ten minutes he had found out why, 
and had cause to regret it. 


172 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

POSEY RYAN’S STORY. 

“When I war a boy,” began the scout, “I lived in 
the north ’ard part o’ York State. My dad handed 
in his chips when I war an infant, leaving my ma, 
my sister, an’ myself behind him. Fort’nitly he left 
us enough rocks so’s we could get along well enough 
’thout stintin’ ourselves. We lived alone some miles 
from the nearest village. Tharfore thar wa’n’t 
nothin’ perticallally rushin’ ’bout the life we led. 
Ez fer me, I used to think a denied sight more o’uny 
fishrod an’ gun nor I did o’ books, an’ spent tarnal 
near all my time among the hills away from the sight 
o’ men. I liked the woods an’ the mounting air, but 
doggoned ef I did like strangers. 

“Sister Kate was a great hand to sketch with a 
pencil. Doggoned ef she couldn’t make han’somer 
picters outen nothin’ at all, ’cept a hunk o’ charcoal 
an’ a slab o’ white paper, nor ever I see. She war 
jest litenin’, she war. Wal, we got. along nice an’ 
easy like, never interferin’ with nobody, an’ never 
bein’ interfered with, till it come along one summer, 
when all our troubles began. 

“One bright day in June I took my old shootin’ iron 
an’ went off into the woods a huntin’ game. I war 
gone two days, an’ when I got back an’ walked into 
the house, thar sot a stranger. He war a fine-look- 
ing chap, well built, an’ well dressed. It appears 
thet he hed come to the house durin’ my absence, 
an’ axed to be took to board for a week. He hed 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


173 


come up, he sed, for a leetle huntin’ an’ fishin’. He 
hed mighty winning ways about him, an’ palavered 
over the wimmen folks until they hed consented to 
take him in. “I didn’t like it very well, but I made 
the best of it, an’ next day we went fishin’ together. 
It war the same way for day arter day, an’ week 
arter week, until the time stretched out to more nor 
a month. Arter thet he dropped goin’ with me part o’ 
the time, an’ stuck to the house. He staid well-nigh on- 
to another month, an’ then, mighty sudden, one day 
while I war away huntin’ he skipped out, an’ went 
back to whar he kem from. Arter he war gone Sis- 
ter Kate mourned an’ pined for him like she would 
die, an’ I’ll take my solemn oath thet a short time 
arterward we discovered thet she hed ben betrayed. 

“The blow killed my mother, who died within a 
week of a broken heart. An’ my sister, who hedn’t 
ontil then fully realized what it all meant, one day, 
when I war away from the house, left a note on the 
table, sayin’ good-by, an’ tellin’ how she loved me 
too well to stay thar an’ disgrace me. Next day we 
foun’ her dead body in the river. 

“From thet day till this I hain’t seen the low-lived 
scoundrel what done thet thing. But to-day I hev 
seen him. Frens, his name is Bill Creighton !” 

The company had not time to recover from their 
astonishment at the announcement, for at the in- 
stant his name was spoken Persimmon Bill uttered 
a loud oath, and bounding from his chair, threw him- 
self upon Ryan with all his force. 

The scout was just rising from his seat, and so was 
taken at a decided disadvantage. Unbalanced by 
the shock, he fell backward through the open scut- 
tle doors into the black and yawning cellar. The 


174 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


doors came together with a loud crash, and he was a 
prisoner. 

As he crawled, half stunned, to his feet, he heard 
a brief scuffle without, and then all was still. 

He next groped his way up the steps and tried the 
doors. They were as immovable as a granite rock, 
and he was a prisoner. The darkness surrounding 
him was intensely black. It was so heavy that he 
could almost feel it. The air was thick and oppres- 
sive. There was no longer a free draught through 
the confined chamber. In place of the crisp, cold 
breeze, the close atmosphere became damp and 
clammy. 

Ryan sat down upon the wooden steps to think. 
How large was his cell? Was there another outlet? 
If not, where did the current of air come from? There 
must be. He would go down the steps and see. 

He rose, and stepped cautiously down. His feet 
touched the floor. Heavens! There was a covering 
of water upon it several inches deep ! 

He remembered that when he first entered the 
apartment it was perfectly dry. What, then, did 
this mean? Horror! The solution flashed upon him. 
The subterranean passage through which the air had 
formerly come was now filled with running water. 
It was only a question of time when the place would 
be filled. And then 

He shuddered at the thought. After an instant he 
rushed wildly up the stairs and pounded upon the 
doors until he had laid his knuckles bare to the bone. 
It was useless ; the barrier stood firm. Then he went 
down again. The water was above the first stair, 
and creeping upward. He returned, and sat upon 
the upper plank. It seemed but an instant when the 
water touched his feet. Then it crept slowly toward 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


175 


his knees. The air became closer and more confined 
as the space occupied by atmosphere srrew smaller. 

The water was above his waist as he stood upon 
his feet, with his head touching the ceiling. Cold 
perspiration started out upon his forehead, and rolled 
down upon his face in torrents. 

Posey Ryan was not a coward, and had faced death 
in many forms ; but the thought of drowning slowly 



THE WATER WAS ABOVE HIS WAIST AS HE STOOD 
UPON HIS FEET. 

gave him the keenest torture. It was a terrible con- 
dition to be placed in. 

He could feel the wavelets lapping about his chin. 
In five minutes it would be too late to save him. 
He could not raise his head higher. Already it was 
pressed close against the flooring above. The flood 
advanced. Had Heaven indeed deserted him? 

A shot was heard outside ; then another. 


176 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


Hark ! Footsteps were approaching. Then voices 
were heard. It was Persimmon Bill who spoke. 

“You see,” he was saying, calmly, “there is no one 
here.” 

There was another sound then. It was the half- 
whining cry of Vixen. She had scented him through 
the door. Would the searchers outside see her? He 
could not cry out ; he could not utter the slightest 
sound. His tongue clove to the roof of his mouth. 

The footsteps retreated. 

Vixen was goaded to madness. She uttered a wild 
scream of anguish. 

At last the eyes were attracted to her, and Robin- 
son’s voice cried out : 

“Great Heaven! The cellar! Quick, or it may be 
too late ! 

There was a hurried sound of moving bars, a rush 
of many waters, and Posey Ryan knew no more. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


177 


CHAPTER XX. 

THE LION CAGED. 

When the scout opened his eyes again, he was 
high and dry upon a table, surrounded by anxious 
faces. 

At his feet stood Sycamore Dan and Esther, while 
Robinson was close beside him. Vixen was stretched 
at full length upon his chest, looking down into his 
face with an expression which indicated very plainly 
her joy at his recovery. 

Slowly the ideas crept back, and he recalled the 
fearful agony he had passed through. It seemed like 
a black dream, too hideous to be real. He could not 
fully realize the fact, until reassured by his friends. 

“How did it happen?” he asked, as soon as he 
could articulate. 

“Why, it’s clear enough to us,” replied Robinson, 
with a smile. 

“Yas, p’raps it is,” added the scout. “But it ain’t 
so clear to me. S’posin’ ye tell me ’bout it. What 
in thunder is that cellar, anyhow!?” ' 

“That was built by the chief’s orders after the 
Bloodsuckers left on their journey in which I took 
part. Therefore I knew nothing of it until just now. 
I don’t know whether he was actuated by the 
thought that some occasion like this might arise or 
not. But I reckon he was, for the place was mighty 
skillfully contrived. There was one trench which 
opened into it, through which the water could be let 
in by simply pulling a cord, which lifted a gate on 


178 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


the bank of the stream behind the house. Thus the 
cellar could be filled up at will. Then, after the water 
had remained long enough to accomplish the pur- 
pose of the chief, by pulling another cord he could 
lift a second gate in the cellar itself, which con- 
nected with an underground passage that would con- 
duct the flood back to the river at a point half a mile 
below here. So, you see, if anybody disappeared 
suddenly in the house, his body might be readily 
disposed of, and nobody the wiser.” 

Ryan shuddered at the possibility. But his thoughts 
soon wandered to other subjects. 

“How does it happen that ye ain’t all took prison- 
ers?” 

“Well,” replied Sycamore Dan, “after you were 
tossed into the cellar, or rather at the very moment, 
we were both attacked by the remaining scoundrels, 
and in less than ten seconds were bound, gagged, 
and taken away. I will say that those fellows did 
their work up in mighty quick shape. We were 
thrown into a dark room, and left alone with our re- 
flections, which, as you may easily imagine, were 
not of a very pleasant character. 

“We had been there perhaps half an hour, when 
we heard ten or twelve shots, some loud yelling, and 
then, almost before we knew it, the door was burst 
in, and we were liberated. 

“As soon as we got out into the light I saw that the 
new arrivals were none other than the remnants of 
the hunting party, who had, after their disastrous 
battle with the Bloodsuckers, reorganized and 
equipped themselves without loss of time for the 
purpose of following their enemies and avenging the 
loss of their companions. Why, even as you were 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


179 


tossed into the cellar-way, they were surrounding 
the house. 

“Robinson, who was the only one about this place, 
stationed outside the house, saw them coming, and 
immediately volunteered to lead them. 

“When he entered, followed by eight or ten of the 
others, you and Esther and myself were already se- 
cured. The invaders met Persimmon Bill in the hall, 
backed by his three subordinates. There was a brief 
but desperate fight, during which the three assist- 
ants were killefi, and Bill himself retired to an inner 
chamber, where he locked himself in and swore he 
would kill the first man who entered. 

“Robinson, knowing my desire to capture the vil- 
lain with my own hands, and guessing immediately 
where I was confined, came with great haste to 
liberate me, first having stationed his followers be- 
fore the door. 

“What was his surprise to find that you were no 
longer with us? Before we could explain he led the 
way to the door of the chief’s room. Of course, we 
didn’t imagine the actual condition of your confine- 
ment. If we had, even in the remotest way, we 
should, of course, have come at once to your rescue, 
and let the matter of catching Bill rest until after- 
ward. But we supposed, of course, that the cellar 
was merely what it looked, a dry excavation, which 
might be used as a prison, nothing more. 

“As it was, I had determined to take Persimmon 
Bill, then and there. So I knocked on the door. 
There was no answer, and I knocked again. 

“ ‘What do you want?’ came from within. 

“ T want to come in,’ said I. 

“ ‘Are you armed?’ 

“ ‘No.’ 


180 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


“ ‘Then you had better stay where you are.’ 

“ ‘I shall do no such thing. I am coming into that 
room. ’ 

“ ‘You will come in at your peril.’ 

“ ‘Nevertheless I shall do so,’ I replied, and put- 
ting my shoulder to the door, I burst it in. 

“As it fell with a crash, a bullet whizzed past my 
head and buried itself in the wall. I continued to 
go forward. Bill Creighton stood on the other side 
of the room, with his smoking revolver in his hand. 
I had neither my pistols nor my knife with me. He 
was very pale, and very determined. A second time 
he raised his weapon and glanced along the barrel. 
I did not flinch. He held his pistol in that position 
an instant, and then let it fall to his side. 

“ ‘You are a brave man,’ he said. 

“ ‘Possibly,’ was all the reply I gave him. 

“ ‘What do you want?’ 

“ ‘I want you.’ 

“Again the revolver came up, hesitated, and went 
back. 

“ ‘Who are you?’ 

“ ‘Don’t you know me?’ 

“ ‘It seems as if I did — and yet ” 

“ ‘My name is Dan Burdette. I want you.’ 

“By Jove, Ryan, if you had seen the look that 
came over his face ! He hesitated no longer, but 
dropped his pistol on the floor and came forward, 
with his hands outstretched to receive the ‘brace- 
lets.’ I had them with me, and it would be safe to 
bet that I didn’t waste any time in putting them on 
him. When that was done he said : 

“ ‘ You are the only man on the face of this earth 
that I would give under to. But I know you too well 
from experience to resist. Your life is charmed.’ 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 181 

“Just then Robinson recalled you to our memory, 
and he started down to this room, where we told 
him you were, with the intention of finding you. 
Bill Creighton, with hands heavily ironed, came with 
him. Robinson, of course, knew nothing about the 
cellar, and had it not been for Vixen, Bill would un- 
doubtedly have led him off the scent. 

“Well, Creighton had just begun to get over the 
surprise of meeting me here, and no doubt was sorry 
he had given up so easily, for, when Robinson was 
fishing you out of the cellar he made a sudden break 
to escape. As he came through the door he ran 
plump into my arms ; and somehow, before I thought, 
I struck him with my fist.” 

“How long ago was thet” asked Ryan. 

“About twenty minutes.” 

“Oh! Then of course he hain’t well enuff to do 
much talkin’ jest yet, is he?” 

“Hot very much. He is lying on the floor over 
there.” 

Ryan was able to get up by this time, and rose at 
once to have another look at the man who had with 
one blow robbed him of mother and sister. 

Just then the door opened, and several of the hunt- 
ing party entered. They had been searching in vain 
for the spot where Marian and her father were hid- 
den, and came in, with disappointed faces, to tell 
the discouraging news. That immediately diverted 
Ryan’s attention from the subject which had en- 
grossed him. 

“Can’t find ’em,” he ejaculated. “Don’t talk like 
thet ! They must be found, ef we hev to rip up every 
board in the hull blasted shebang. Come with me. 
Great snakes ! I’ll find ’em, or I won’t leave a piece 
o’ this shanty big enough to pick yer teeth with !” 


182 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


Followed by the others, Ryan left the room. Dan 
and Esther were the only ones remaining in the 
apartment, excepting Persimmon Bill, who was still 
senseless from the blow he had received. 

The two were silent for a little space. Somehow, 
they felt constrained in each other’s presence. The 
sensation was a new one to both of them. Perhaps 
it was because they had never been alone together 
before — at least, not since they had become thor- 
oughly acquainted with each other. The stillness 
became oppressive at length, and they both began 
to realize that it must be broken before long, or it 
would become seriously embarrassing. 

“Ahem!” said Dan, after a while. 

Then he relapsed into his former condition. But 
about that time a new idea struck him. It would do 
to start the conversation with anyhow. 

“Do you remember, Miss Esther,” he began, “that 
once we had a brief talk about my identity?” 

“Yes, sir, I believe I do,” she responded, without 
lifting her eyes. 

Dan smiled. That “sir” seemed rather strained, 
everything considered. 

“Well,” he continued, “I promised at that time to 
tell you on some future occasion all about myself— 
or at least I intimated that I would do so. But I 
could not well keep my promise until the object of 
my stay in this country had been accomplished. But 
now, as I firmly believe, I am at liberty to talk with 
entire freedom.” 

“Then I am to infer that your 'object’ has been at- 
tained.” 

“Certainly.” 

“Was Persimmon Bill that object?” 

“He was.” 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


183 


“And you are ” 

“A United States detective/’ 

Esther looked at him with renewed surprise, 
mingled with curiosity. She had often wondered at 
the mystery which enveloped him, but had never 
imagined that such a bright, laughing, dashing fel- 
low as Sycamore Dan could be in reality such a dread 
personage as detectives are commonly supposed to 
be. But a roguish expression soon overspread her 
face. 

“Then that elaborate story about your life on the 
Wabash was all moonshine?” 

Dan actually blushed. 

“I am afraid I shall have to plead guilty, Miss 
Esther. But I had work to do, and to have told the 
whole truth about myself would not have been like 
business — don’t you see?” 

The detective began to feel a vague sort of won- 
der at himself. A month ago he would have gone on 
in the even tenor of his way, acted as best suited 
the performance of his duty, without a single mo- 
mentary thought of explaining his course to anybody. 
He had always maintained that no person had the 
remotest right to ask his motives for any act he 
chose to perform, so long as his course was not 
criminal. It was nobody’s business, he thought, and 
yet, here he was, actually apologizing for having 
used deception. And to a woman, at that ! It was 
a new sensation, and though shame is not enjoyable 
under ordinary circumstances, yet he really felt ac- 
tual satisfaction. The whole thing was inexplicable 
to him. 

“Well, I forgive you!” said Esther, archly. “But 
you mustn’t do it any more. I am afraid detectives 
as a rule are not reliable persons. They cannot be, 


184 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


it seems, and perform their labors successfully. And 
if a man prevaricates once how are we ever to be 
sure he is not doing the same whatever he says?” 

“Yes, but you see my case is different.” 

And Dan proceeded to relate, in the fullest way, 
the causes which had led him westward, his former 
relations with Bill Creighton, and his adventures 
since he started on his perilous journey. He talked 
with animation until he had finished his tale, and 
then his voice dropped. He hesitated an instant, 
and then f alter ingly concluded : 

“I thought Miss Esther, that as there was just a 
bare possibility of our again meeting in the future, 
it would be only just right for me to tell you about 
myself before I go away.” 

“Before you go ! Are you — I mean, that is, do you 
intend to start so soon?” 

The girl spoke eagerly at first, not realizing the 
construction that might be put upon her words. 
Then, when the sentence was half uttered, she tried 
to remedy her error, and made an extremely con- 
fusing affair of it. She was very pretty as the blood 
rushed to her face, dyeing her cheek to a deep car- 
nation hue. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


185 


CHAPTER XXI. 

THE LAST OF THE BLOODSUCKERS. 

Dan regained his courage, and rising, approached 
close to her, so close that she could feel his warm 
breath upon her forehead. He took her little tremb- 
ling white hands in his, and gazed fixedly upon her. 

“And should you be sorry to have me go, Esther ?” 

There was a world of tenderness in his voice, 
which told her more than the words themselves. 
The flush deepened on her temples. She looked up 
shyly for an instant, and then her eyes fell again to 
the ground. 

“I — should — be — sorry — to— part— with — any — 
friend,” she replied, softly. 

“But if you loved your friend, if your friend were 
all in all to you ” 

“Oh, then I should not — could not part with him.” 

The words were impetuous, and came from the 
heart. 

Dan’s arm passed quickly around the yielding 
waist. 

“ And then, may I hope, Esther, darling Esther, 
that'you will not — cannot part with me?” 

She was not a girl skilled in the art of deception. 
What came into her mind found utterance through 
her lips. There was the clear light of truth in her 
eyes, as she looked into his face, an expression of 
infinite trustfulness. 

“You may not only hope, but if you will it so, you 
may be sure I” 


186 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


He gave one gasp of joy— of happiness too great 
for words to tell, and then catching her up in his 
powerful arms as lightlyas if she had been an in- 
fant, he imprinted upon her lips a burning kiss. 

“Wal, doggone my skin, ef thet don’t jest take the 
cake ! Chaw my buttons, pardner, but you’re the 
luckiest chap I ever see ! Ho, ho ! Caught in the 
act!” 

Turning quickly about, the lovers saw, standing 
in the door-way with a grin of satisfaction on his 
face, Posey Ryan. Behind him were old Doc Har- 
per, Marian, Robinson, and the rest of the hunters. 

With a glad cry Esther rushed into her father’s 
arms, and in another instant was embracing both 
the old man, and Marian, by turns, scarcely know- 
ing, in her joy, which made her happiest. 

The hunters, led by Ryan, had pretty well turned 
the house upside down in their endeavors to find 
their lost friends, who were at length discovered in 
an underground passage, somewhat similar to the 
one in which the scout himself had so narrowly es- 
caped. 

Once reunited, the friends were very jubilant, and 
longed to get back again to Fort Hays. But one 
thing remained to delay the consummation of that 
desire and, that was a proposal from Ryan. 

“I s’pose,” he said, “thet we mought ez well hev 
this thing out with the Bloodsuckers now ez enny 
time. They’ll be back from their trip to Fort Hays 
in a very few Mays, ’cos they’ll diskiver thet ther 
proposed prey ain’t thar. In the meantime we kin 
be fixin’ things so’s to make ther welcome one thet 
they’ll be likely to remember ontil they forget it.” 

The hunters were not only willing, but anxious to 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


187 


get revenge for past wrongs, and so cheerfully set 
about the task of fortifying their position. 

It was one sunny day in May that the men who 
had been appointed to watch for the coming of the 
robbers, came riding swiftly in with the announce- 
ment that they were in sight. 

In ten minutes every man was at his post, and all 
was in readiness. 

The affair was so arranged that not a man could 
be seen by the Bloodsuckers, as totally unsuspic- 
ious, they approached the rendezvous. And when 
they entered the little valley they were completely 
shut in. 

Then a rifle cracked. It was the signal for the on- 
slaught. 

Completely and terribly surprised, the villains 
showed little resistance. In twenty minutes not one 
of them stood to tell the tale. Every man among 
them was dead. 

They had fallen into just such an ambush as they 
would have laid for others. The revenge of the 
hunters was completely and fearfully executed. 

Only one incident of the battle requires especial 
mention, although the deeds of blood done by all the 
hunters showed bravery and determination. It was 
tacitly understood, in the first of the fight, that Hat- 
field was to be left to the tender mercies of Robin- 
son, who only wanted a fair chance to settle the 
score which had been standing long between them. 

They met, early in the conflict, and without an in- 
stant of hesitation on either side, began a terrible 
hand-to-hand fight. 

Hatfield had nearly recovered from the wound his 
antagonist had inflicted upon him previously, and he 
fought like a tiger. The two men strained and 


188 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


tossed about in their endeavors to overcome each 
other, and . it soon became evident that they were 
pretty evenly matched. Finally Robinson missed his 
footing and fell heavily. The long, sharp blade of 
his enemy was raised high in the air, and poised an 
instant, as if in hesitation where to strike. 

That instant of indecision saved Robinson’s life, 
for just then the sunlight was darkened by a shadow, 
and Vixen, with a savage growl, closed her muscular 
jaws upon the scoundrel’s throat. Mangled and 
torn, he staggered to his feet, tottered an instant, 
and fell forward, stone dead. 

The stream of my story flows rapidly to its end. 
In a week the party, with Persimmon Bill Creigh- 
ton, counterfeiter, burglar, highwayman, and mur- 
derer, safe in their clutches, arrived at Fort Hays. 

Two days later there was a quiet marriage cere- 
mony in old Doc Harper’s cabin, and two brides and 
grooms were united. 

There was a short season of merriment at the fort, 
after which the hunting party reorganized, and 
started again on their travels. 

Upon the same morning a wagon-train, guarded by 
a number of heavily armed men, started eastward. 

One of the vehicles contained Esther, Marian, and 
their father. In the one following it, shackled 
heavily, lay Bill Creighton, who was guarded night 
and day by Robinson, Ryan, Dan, and Vixen. 

From the time of his capture he had scarcely 
spoken, and he retained the same moody demeanor 
through all the long journey to Washington. He 
brooded and sulked until he was worn to a shadow. 

During the trial which succeeded his arrival, he 
suddenly broke out one morning a raving maniac. 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


189 


The suits were immediately discontinued, and he was 
sent to a secure asylum, where he finally died, not 
more than two years ago. One of the physicians who 
was with him in his last hours says his hair and 
beard, which had grown to a great length, were 
as white as the driven snow, and he appeared al- 
ways to be haunted by the reproaches of some beauti- 
ful vision. 

Upon his death-bed he was violent and troubled, 
until suddenly pushing his hand underneath his pil- 
low, he drew out a coil of deep black hair. This he 
pressed passionately to his lips, and in an instant his 
ravings ceased. The tears rolled down his cheeks in 
two great streams, and murmuring, “Now, oh, 
Heavenly Father, I am at rest— have mercy on my 
sinful soul,” he passed peacefully away. Dan re- 
ceived the full reward which was offered for Creigh- 
on’s recovery. Of this Robinson was forced to 
accept $10,000, and Ryan shared the rest. 

Old Doc Harper died a year later, and was sin- 
cerely mourned. 

Just in the pleasant suburbs outside New York 
there are two cottages, connected by an arched and 
blooming vine-trailed arbor. Here reside Dan Bur- 
dette, the retired detective, and his warm friend, 
Posey Ryan. With them lives Jack Robinson, ex- 
Bloodsucker, but now a solid and influential -man of 
business. 

Almost any day, going by there as the dying sun 
touches with magic hands the beautiful and neatly 
kept spot, you may see pretty children running about 
the yard, playing with a strange-looking pet which 
answers to the name of “Vixen;” while two middle- 
aged couples, whose identity we may readily guess, 


190 


THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE. 


sit contentedly beneath the shade of the fragrant 
arbor. 

It is a glimpse of Arcadia. 

And though the fairy sunbeams die out and the 
shades of evening deepen, the love-light shining in 
the eyes of those friends as they sit, calm and con- 
tented, never fades or grows less. 

Though gray hairs and wrinkles may come, 
though age may wither, that beautiful affection, 
which never grows old and never dies, will always 
irradiate their beings. For theirs is the true, the 
everlasting love. 


(the end.) 


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alternating over a venerated home; of a grand old man, honest and blunt, who 
loves his honor as he loves his life, yet suffers the agony of the condemned in 
learning of the deplorable conduct of a wayward son; a story of country life, love 
and jealousy, without an Impure thought, and with the healthy flavor of the 
fields in every chapter. It is founded on Denman Thompson s drama of ‘The 
Old Homestead.’ ” — N. Y. Press, May 26th. 

“ Messrs. Street & Smith, publishers of the New Yorlc Weekly, have brought 
out in book-form the story of ‘ The Old Homestead,’ the play which, as produced 
by Mr. Denman Thompson, has met with ouch wondrous success. It will proba- 
bly have a great sale, thus justifying the foresight of the publishers in giving the 
drama this permanent Action form.”— N. Y. Morning Journal, June 2d. 

“ The popularity of Denman Thompson’s play of ‘The Old Homestead’ has 
encouraged Street & Smith, evidently with his permission, to publish a good-sized 
novel with the same title, set in the same scenes and including the same charac- 
ters and more too. The book is a fair match for the play in the simple good taste 
and real ability with which it is written. The publishers are Street & Smith, and 
they have gotten the volume up in cheap popular form.”— N. Y. Graphic, May 29. 

“Denman Thompson’s play, ‘The Old Homestead,’ is familiar, at least by rep- 
utation, to every play-goer in the country. Its truth to nature and its simple 
pathos have been admirably preserved in this story, which is founded upon it 
and follows its Incidents closely. The requirements of the stag*- make the action 
a little hurried at times, but the scenes described are brought before the mind’s 
eye with remarkable vividness, and the portrayal of life in the little New Eng- 
land town is almost perfect. Those who have never seen the play can get an 
excellent idea of what it is like from the book. Both are free from sentimentality 
and sensation, and are remarkably healthy in tone.”— Albany Express. 

“Denman Thompson’s ‘Old Homestead' has been put into story-form and is is- 
sued by Street & Smith. The story will somewhat explain to those who have not 
seen it the great popularity of the play.”— Brooklyn Times, June 8th. 

“The fame of Denman Thompson’s play, ‘Old Homestead,’ is world-wide. 
Tens of thousands have enjoyed it, and frequently recall the pure, lively pleasure 
they took in its representation. This is the story told in narrative form as well 
as it was told on the stage, and will be a treat to all, whether they have seen the 
play or not ."—National Tribune, Washington, D. C. 

“Here we have the shaded lanes, the dusty roads, the hilly pastures, the 
peaked roofs, the school-house, and the familiar faces of dear old Svvanzey, and 
the story which, dramatized, has packed the largest theater in New York, and 
has been a success everywhere because of its true and sympathetic touches of 
nature. All the incidents which have held audiences spell- bound are here re- 
corded— the accusation of robbery directed against the innocent boy, his shame, 
and leaving home ; the dear old Aunt Tilda, who has been courted for thirty 
years by the mendacious Cy Prime, who has never had the courage to propose ; 
the fall of the country boy into the temptations of city life, and his recovery by 
the good oldman who braves the metropolis to find him. The story embodies all 
that the play tells, and all that it suggests as well .”— Kansas City Journal, 
May 27th. 


THE SELECT SERIES. 

ISSUED MONTHLY, 

DEVOTED TO M BEADING IN AMERICAN FICTION. 

Price, QS Cents Hiacii, 


FULLY ILLUSTRATED, 


No. 1 .— THE SENATOR’S BRIDE, by Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. 

No. 2. — A WEDDED WIDOW ; or, The Love That Lived, by T. W. 
Hanshew. 

No. 3. — VELLA VERNEL ; or, An Amazing Marriage, by Mrs. Sum- 
ner Hayden. 

No. 4.— BONNIE JEAN, by Mrs. E. Burke Collins. 

No. 5.— BRUNETTE AND BLONDE ; or, The Struggle for a Ring, 
by Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. 

No. 6.— A STORMY WEDDING, by Mary E. Bryan. 

No. 7. — GRATIA’S TRIALS; or, Making Her Own Way, by Lucy 
Randall Comfort. 

No. 8. — WILL SHE WIN ? or. The Charmed Necklace, by Emma Gar- 
rison Jones. 

No. 9.— THE WIDOW’S WAGER, by Rose Ashleigh. 

No. 10. — OCTAVIA’S PRIDE; or, The Missing Witness, by Charles T. 
Manners. 

No. 11. — BADLY MATCHED; or. Woman Against Woman, by Helen 
Corwin Pierce. 

No. 12.— THE PHANTOM WIFE, by M. V. Victor. 

No. 13. — THE BRIDE-ELECT, by Annie Ashmore. 

No. 14.— FLORENCE FALKLAND, by Burke Brentford. 

No. 15.— THE VIRGINIA HEIRESS, by May Agnes Fleming. 

No. 16.— SIBYL’S INFLUENCE, by Georgie Sheldon. 

No. 17 — THE HOUSE OF SECRETS, by Mrs. Harriet Lewis. 

No. 18.— ROSAMOND, by Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller. 

No. 19.— A LATE REPENTANCE; or, The Little White Hand, by 
Mary E. Denison. 

No. 20. — INGOMAR; or, The Triumph of Love, by Nathan D. Urner. 

The above works are for sale by all Newdealers, or will be sent to 

any address, postpaid, on receipt of price, 25 cents each, by the pub- 
lishers, 

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In Handsome Paper Covers, 35 Cents. 


No. 1. 

A STORY OF POWER AND PATHOS. 


THE SENATOR’S BRIDE. 

By Mrs. ALEX. McVEIGH MILLER, 

Author of “Brunette and Blonde,” “Lady Gay’s Pride,” etc. 


This is a domestic story of deep interest, charmingly written, 
with vigor and earnestness, and has not a dull scene in it. The 
author’s purpose is to portray nature ; she therefore avoids all 
extravagance, and relies entirely upon her ability to entertain 
her readers with the presentation of scenes and incidents that 
never surpass probability, yet are extremely captivating. 

The story of “The Senator’s Bride” is something more than 
a work of fiction. It contains a moral that is certain to be im- 
pressed upon all who follow the career of the wife who wrecked 
her happiness because she respected herself too much to deceive 
her husband. 


PRICE, TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. 

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cover, and for sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers ; or sent, 
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No. 2 . 

A VIGOROUS DRAMATIC STORY. 


A WEDDED WIDOW; 

OB, 

THE LOVE THAT LIVED. 


By T. W. HANSHEW, 

AUTHOR OF 

“Young Mrs. Charnleigh.,” “Beautiful, but Dangerous,” etc. 


An admirably told love story, brisk in action, with well 
drawn characters, and a novel and ingenious plot. 


PRICE, TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. 

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cover, and for sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers ; or sent, 
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OF 

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No. 3. 

An. Entrancing Love Story. 


VELLA VERNELL; 

OR, 

AN AMAZING MARRIAGE. 

By Mrs. SUMNER HAYDEN, 

Author of “Little Goldie,” etc. 


In originality of conception, and artistic skill in the construc- 
tion and development of plot, the story of “Vella Vernell” will 
compare favorably with the most meritorious works of fiction. 
The language is graceful and forcible ; the style is earnest and 
captivating ; the incidents are novel and dramatic — a series of 
animated pictures, so very life-like that the reader becomes 
impressed with their reality ; the characters are capitally drawn, 
and speak and act like sentient beings ; while the plot is fresh 
and ingenious, and evolved with the tact of a master-hand. 


PRICE, TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. 


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cover, and for sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers ; or sent, 
postage free, to any "address, on receipt of price, by the pub- 
lishers, 

STREET <5c SMITH, 

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KTo. 4= 

TWO INTENSELY INTERESTING STORIES. 


BONNY JEAN; 

OR, 

THE CHEST OF GOLD. 

By Mrs. E. BURKE COLLINS, 

Author of “Sir Philip’s Wife,” “Married for Gold,” etc. 

A love story of absorbing interest, artistic in construction, and 
founded on an entrancing plot. 


A SEVERE THREAT. 

By Mrs. E. BURKE COLLINS, 

Author of “Bonny Jean,” “Sir Philip’s Wife,” etc. 

A story exciting in action, brisk in movement, with several highly 
wrought dramatic scenes. 


PRICE, TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. 


For sale by all Booksellers and News Agents, or will be sent, 
postage free, to any address in the United States or Canada, on receipt 
of price, by the publishers, 

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. OF 

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BX POPULAR AUTHORS. 


No. 3. 

BRUNETTE AND BLONDE; 

OR, 

The Struggle for a Birthright. 

By Mrs. ALEX. McVEIG-H MILLER, 

Author of “The Senator’s Bride, “A Dreadful Temptation,” “The 
Bride of the Tomb,” etc. 

This is a natural and admirably told story, graceful in diction, with 
well-drawn characters, and the author’s graphic power is evidenced in 
many dramatic scenes of exciting interest. 


KTo. 6. 

A STORMY WEDDING. 

By Mrs. MARY E. BRYAN, 

Author of “Manch,” “Ruth the Outcast,” “Bonny and Blue,” etc. 

A spirited and earnestly written story, with a fresh and ingenious 
pl®t, which is so artistically developed that the interest never lags. 


Both of these books are uniform in size with the others of the series 
of American Copyright Stories, with handsome lithographed covers. 

Price, Twenty-five Cents Each. 

They are for sale by every Bookseller and News Agent, or will be 
sent to any address in the United States or Canada on receipt of 
price. 

STREET &c SMITH, 

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OP 

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No. "7- 

A PATHETIC AND IMPRESSIVE STORY. 


GrRATIA’S TRIALS; 

OR, 

MAKING HER OWN WAY. 

By LUCY RANDALL COMFORT, 

Author of “Diamond; or, The California Heiress,” “Vendetta," 
“Cecile’s Marriag-e,” “Twice an Heiress,” etc. 


A healthy and inspiring tone, which gradually impresses the 
reader, is evident in every chapter of this ingeniously conceived and 
well managed story. It is successful in carrying out the author’s 
intention— to not only entertain those who scan its pages, but to 
also endow them with that fortitude which will enable them to un- 
complainingly endure misfortunes, while heroically battling to over- 
come them. 


PRICE, TWENTY-FIVE CENTS EACH. 


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and for sale by all Booksellers and News Agents ; or sent, postage free, 
to any address in the United States or Canada, on receipt of price, 
by the publishers, 

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KTo. 8. 

WILL SHE WIN? 

OR, 

THE CHARMED NECKLACE. 

By EMMA GARRISON JONES, 

Author of “A Great Wrong-,” “The Midnight Prophecy,” etc. 


A delightful uncertainty as to the outcome of the strange 
events forces the reader to hasten from page to page, eager 
to learn the denouement. The plot is fascinating and in- 
genious, the character sketching is quite clever, and to the 
very last line the interest is artistically sustained. 

PRICE, TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. 

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cover, and for sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers; or 
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the publishers, 

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KTo. 9. 

A BRILLIANT AND ANIMATED ROMANCE. 

THE WIDOW’S WAGER. 

A Tale of Northern Hearts and Southern Homes. 

By ROSE ASHLEIGH, 

Author of “The Condemned Wife,” “Fighting- Her Way,” etc. 

The incidents of this masterful story are vivid, thrilling, 
and dramatic. The quiet scenes are depicted with the 
grace, ease and elegance of Bulwer's classic style, while tho 
more spirited and exciting tableaux are presented with the 
force, vigor and intensity of description which characterize 
Wilkie Collins* most effective passages. 

PRICE, TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. 

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cover, and for sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers; or 
sent, postage free , to any address, on receipt of price, by 
the publishers, 

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3XTO. lO. 

OCTAVIA’S PRIDE; 

OR, 

THE MISSING WITNESS. 

By CHARLES T. MANNERS, 

Author of “The Lord of Lyle,” “The Flaw in the Diamond,” etc. 


An animated and vigorous story, graceful in diction, pro- 
gressive in action, and devoid of verbose descriptions. 
Every chapter is full of spirited and novel incidents, and 
every paragraph is essential to the development of the well- 
constructed plot. 

PRICE, TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. 

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3N To- XI- 

AN ENTRANCING SENSATIONAL STORY. 

BADLY MATCHED; 

OR, 

WOMAN AGAINST WOMAN. 

By HELEN CORWIN PIERCE, 

Author of “The Curse of Everleigh,” “Married in Jest,” etc. 

Woman’s honor and woman’s deception are in this story 
powerfully contrasted. Between vice and virtue there is a 
prolonged contest — one woman, actuated solely by honor- 
able motives, competing with an unprincipled female strate- 
gist, whose heart is steeled against every ennobling impulse. 
This battle of life is continued with varying changes, until 
the soul-absorbing mystery is satisfactorily elucidated. 

PRICE, TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. 

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cover, and for sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers; or 
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No. 12. 

AN IMPRESSIVE AND SYMPATHETIC STORY. 

The Phantom Wife. 

By Mrs. M. V. VICTOR, 

Author of “Born to Betray,” “The Beautiful Tempter,” etc. 


This is a touching narrative of domestic life, and it so 
earnestly treats of home joys and sorrows that it is difficult 
to resist the belief that there is in it an artful blending of 
fact with fiction. The heart throbs responsively to the keen 
sorrow of the trusting husband who, after a brief period of 
matrimonial happiness, awoke one morning to the realiza- 
tion of a misfortune greater than death — dishonor. 

PRICE, TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. 

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cover, and for sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers; or 
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No. 13. 

.A. Story of 'Woman’s Ways. 

THE BRIDE ELECT; 

OR, 

THE DOOM OP THE DOUBLE ROSES. 

By ANNIE ASHMORE, 

Author of “Corinne’s Revenge,” “Faithful Margaret,” etc. 


Bold in conception, unique in plot, and vigorous in con- 
struction, “The Bride Elect” is also a masterpiece of 
descriptive power. The character drawing is one of its 
prominent charms, and the whims and jealousies of the 
female heart are presented with vivid fidelity, and with that 
thorough knowledge of woman's ways which comes only 
from long study of the sex. There is a fascinating mystery, 
the various ramifications of which are so artistically .out- 
lined that curiosity is kept at the highest tension through- 
out the entire story. 

PRICE, TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. 

Issued in clear, large type, with handsome lithographed 
cover, and for sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers; or 
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INTO* 14=. 

Florence Falkland; 

OR, 

THE SHROUDED LIFE. 

By BURKE BRENTFORD, 

Author of “Torn from Home,” “The Steel Casket,” etc. 


The opening chapters of this absorbingly interesting 
story disclose a perplexing and mysterious event; and so 
artistically are the circumstances grouped around it that the 
web of suspicion infolds three persons as the probable in- 
stigators. As link after link of evidence is forged against 
each in turn, new and startling discoveries shatter the chain, 
and succeeding developments intensify the interest. The 
story is vigorously told, and is full of animated pictures and 
cleverly portrayed dramatic tableaux. 

PRICE, TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. 

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cover, and for sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers; or 
sent, postage free , to any address, on receipt of price, by 
the publishers, 

STREET & SMITH, 

31 Rose St., New York* 


P- O. Box 2734. 



























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